Even In The Darkness I'm Not Alone
by Nik216
Summary: Trying to better their place in the world, Bridget Sullivan and her sister Katherine leave Roanoke to claim an inheritance, a small family homestead in Franklin County, when an unfortunate event leaves them on the front porch of Blackwater Station. What they couldn't realize was just how that simple accident on a rainy afternoon would change everything. Rated M for the obvious...
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This came to me in an odd dream a few weeks ago that I was unable to get out of my head. (Do not sleep stressed out with the television on.) After a talk with a good friend and her editing eyes I decided to turn it into a story. **

**I am purely writing this as an exercise in character development and for my own muse to stop talking to me about why I haven't written anything yet...**

**Loosely based on the movie Lawless and the characters therein, I naturally own nothing that is already spoken for, just my own work.**

* * *

There are certain expectations and milestones that one hopes to reach in the course of their lifetime; and perhaps more importantly there is a due time and schedule for each and every one of these things to be completed by which is firmly set by society. It's not to be said that these rules are set in stone, as many people manage to meander around them with little care- but the simple facts of _her _situation couldn't be ignored.

Being a woman in 1932 who was coming up on her thirtieth birthday, who wasn't married and had no prospects thereof, who watched over her also unmarried twenty-year-old baby sister and had a seven-year-old orphaned nephew under her care, while escaping a deceased father's gambling debts by running off to rural Virginia- is not by any means an enviable _or_ respectful position to be in. But, despite the unsavory nature of it all- it was the sad truth of their little family. Though, being born a Sullivan was never a particularly grand thing to begin with.

Bridget Sullivan wasn't unique. She grew up like most railroad worker's daughters did in the country during the Depression- that is to say poor, very hungry and Irish. She spent her youth in a small one-room tenement house just outside of Roanoke that she shared with her father and her two younger sisters. Her mother Molly had died when Bridget was ten, not long after she gave birth to her youngest sister Katherine, and for all intents and purposes, her father Angus was lost to the bottle not long after that- but it was a car accident the previous winter that finally did him in for good; to Bridget, it was a mercy killing if there ever was one.

And it would be fair to presume she loved her parents as much as any daughter is supposed to, and missed them when they were gone; but it was the death of her middle sister Mary and her husband John five years ago to scarlet fever that had truly broken her heart. Bridget did what she had to do as the oldest sibling– she put her own life on hold and took in their only son, Patrick, without a second thought; and though the little boy was an odd thing with who hadn't spoken a word since his parents died, walking with a limp courtesy of the same infection that took them- he was the light of her life. It had cost her dearly, but it was nothing that wasn't healed with time and the realization that her responsibilities outweighed her need for personal satisfaction. She was a mother and a father now, the head of a family- and that was all she had time in her life for.

:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o

"It's colder than I thought it would be up here," Katherine's high-pitched, musical voice floated into her distracted mind and Bridget couldn't help but smile as she looked over at the pretty little blonde girl. She had always been small, even as a grown woman she was lucky if she was five feet tall on a good day, and a hundred pounds soaking wet. But what she lacked in size she made up for in big, clear blue eyes, flawless porcelain skin, an adorable figure and the kind of smarts that belonged in a University somewhere instead of the backwoods.

Bridget may have been the eldest sister, but she'd always felt plain next to Katherine and even Mary. Whereas her baby sisters caught the eye of any who looked their way, she was just an average-looking girl of average height with a decent amount of curves that never seemed to go away no matter how hard she worked or how little she ate, crowned with a mop of unmanageable brown curly hair and unremarkable blue-grey she actively wondered if she hadn't been made so simple-looking for the reason that _they_ both deserved a better hand in this life than she had been dealt; and maybe, just maybe standing next to her made them look all the more special.

Either way, whether that was the truth or not- Bridget was here to make sure that though Mary hadn't been able to enjoy her happiness, Katherine wouldn't settle for anything less than she deserved. And God help the poor, unfortunate soul that went sniffing around under her watch.

"Well it is April Katie. I guess spring hasn't _sprung_ around here yet," she needled back with a tired sigh.

Katie quirked her eyebrow and picked at a ball of lint on the tattered brown woolen sweater that hung too loosely off of her body. "Now, that one's not even funny for _you_, Bridget."

Bridget couldn't help but laugh at her honest assessment; she wasn't exactly known for her engaging sense of humor. "Sorry, it's all I have, kiddo," she remarked as she ran her hands along the Model T Ford's smooth, worn metal steering wheel.

A little squeak abruptly popped up from in between them and they both turned to look at Patrick, who eagerly pointed out the windshield with one of his bony little fingers. He squirmed in his seat as he pulled on the sleeve of Bridget's coat, his crystal blue eyes dancing as the shock of messy white-blonde hair that stood straight up on his head bounced back and forth with the animated movements. For a moment, she half-expected him to _finally_ get out the words, but he kept on with the little peeps and noises that the girls had come to understand as his way of speaking instead.

"What is it, honey?" Bridget asked gently as she stared down the heavily wooded road, trying to discern anything in the deep tree cover. "I don't see anything."

He pulled harder on her coat and leaned forward more, this time staring at Katie as he did it. Bridget turned her head just in time to see a beautiful doe jump out of the bushes and land on the ground right in front of them. She gasped in surprise and slammed on the brakes, jerking the wheel as she tried desperately to reach across the seat to protect both the fragile boy and her sister with little more than her arm. The car jolted and slid out of control on the loose dirt road, the tires spun wildly, and she finally just abandoned all hope and let go of the wheel as she leaned across the seat and closed her eyes, praying to anyone who would listen that it would be alright.

The car lurched and went off hard to the left – it felt like they'd fallen for a mile – before she heard a loud metallic _snap_ and a thud slammed her head hard into the dashboard. Bridget opened her eyes to see Patrick stunned and clutching onto her with tears in his eyes while Katie groaned and removed herself from the floor of the car. She'd fallen off the bench seat and managed to somehow end up with her legs in the air underneath the glove box.

"You alright?" Bridget asked, as she sat up and pulled Patrick onto her lap; rocking him tightly and trying to keep him from crying as she steadfastly tried to ignore the vicious pounding in her head.

Katie wriggled out from the uncomfortable space and sat back on the seat as she pulled her striped green dress back down. "Yeah, I'm alright." It only took a moment for her to look at the distraught little boy in her sister's arms before she reached over to grab the both of them in a big hug, "See, we are all fine."

Her easy, gentle smile instantly brought a sense of calm to the situation and Patrick relaxed, his big eyes looking around the tilted cabin of the car.

"This isn't good," Katie grumbled softly as she moved to the passenger door and gingerly opened it, stepping out onto the gravel road and eyeing the car up and down with a grimace. "I think the front axle is broken."

Bridget cursed under her breath at the ridiculous circumstances, feeling personally that there really should be a quota of bad luck that a person is allowed to have in a lifetime, because she was pretty sure that she'd used up all of hers by now. With nothing left to do but grumble, she sat up and handed Patrick over the seat to Katie before fixing her skirt and climbing out. After a moment's glance it was easy to see that the axle was most decidedly broken, and with that being the situation they were _certainly_ not driving the rest of the way to their destination.

Her mind raced as she tried to sort out their dire was a little after three in the afternoon and they were at least a five-mile, uphill hike to the old homestead. The cabin was the entire reason that they were in Franklin County to begin with; it was her maternal grandfather's place and she'd hoped that the small house and the three-acre parcel of land that it sat on would be a fresh start for all of them. Far away from Roanoke and the trouble her father had left behind with his passing.

"I think there was a fork in the road a few miles back," Katie piped up as she grabbed onto Patrick's hand, coaxing him up off the ground and away from the small pile of white rocks he was meticulously starting to collect in his hands, which would no doubt end up in his pockets. The poor boy had the oddest habits in the world. "We should probably head downhill, it'll be easier to walk and I swore I saw a sign for a service station."

Bridget nodded in agreement and took one last withering look at the car before locking up their meager belongings and gesturing for them to head out. With a laugh Katie crouched down to let the small boy jump onto her back and wrap his arms and legs around her, clinging tight like a possum. A look of pure joy crossed his face as she began to skip off down the dirt road singing some sort of silly nursery rhyme at the top of her lungs.

And his answering giggles were enough to make even this irritation seem trivial for a moment.

:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o

The elation did not last as long as Bridget would have liked.

They weren't more than a mile or so down the road from the wrecked car when the skies darkened and literally opened up in an absolute downpour. Big, fat raindrops fell with a furious intensity and she pulled off her coat, draping it quickly over Patrick's head; there was too much of a risk of him catching a cold in the godforsaken weather. Unfortunately that left her in little more than a threadbare pale blue cotton dress that was getting more and more translucent as the deluge continued. In an attempt to stay a bit drier, and to take a load off of poor Katie's back, she took up Patrick a few minutes later. He was as heavy as a sack of potatoes and though she should have been happy that the boy was finally putting on some weight, the realization was less enjoyable when it came at the expense of her aching back.

Blessedly it wasn't five minutes later that they came to the intersection in the road, just as Katie had remembered, and there was a rickety old wooden sign with faded black letters that proclaimed that 'Blackwater Station' was just a mile and a half down the road.

:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o

The girls kept their heads down and walked the remaining distance as fast as they could, slipping and sliding down the dirt road that was growing more and more treacherous with each step. By the time they finally saw the wooden outline of the station they were exhausted, cold, muddy, and soaked to the bone. Bridget climbed up the stairs under the overhang on the porch and looked around; the place seemed to be completely empty.

With a sigh, she set Patrick down and wrung out her hair with a hard twist of her hand; the long, thick braid was absolutely drenched and she was glad she'd thought to tie it up. The auburn mass was generally difficult to manage, but with it being wet like it was now, it would look like a riot of messy curls and she really had no desire to meet anyone looking any more disheveled and wretched than she already did.

Katie shook out her long hair with a flip while pulling off her drenched sweater with ease. She dropped the sodden mass to the porch as she looked around the darkened windows of the station, making a show of pressing her face to the glass. "I don't think anyone is here."

It wouldn't have been unusual; it was probably coming up on five o'clock on a Sunday evening, not exactly the prime hours for people to be out needing sundries or looking for gasoline. But it was disappointing. Bridget wasn't exactly sure what they were going to do if there wasn't anyone around…she_ certainly_ didn't fancy the idea of sleeping outside on the porch in their current state.

To further emphasize her point, Patrick let out a loud sneeze from underneath the shelter of her jacket. A smile crossed her face as she looked down at the boy. His wide eyes peered out from the tent that the collar made on his head; a tuft of messy white, blonde hair stood straight up near his forehead. "You are just too cute," she murmured, crouching down to rub her hands over his arms briskly, trying to keep him warm.

A loud noise came from the side of the porch and suddenly a tall, lean body vaulted up the stairs with arms full of boxes and cans; the legs were moving so fast that there wasn't time for Katie to turn around from her lookout perch in the window and get out of the way before she was unceremoniously crashed into.

Bridget held onto Patrick to shield him from the raining supplies as what was soon found out to be a rather handsome young man landed smack on top of her sister. He jumped to his feet as quick as if he was on fire, surprised hazel eyes darting first to her and then back to Katie's prone form before he spoke in a rush, "I'm so sorry!" His hands shot out to grab hers and he pulled her to her feet with an enthusiastic yank.

"Gosh, I'm _really_ sorry," he added again, removing his soaking wet brown hat and staring at the three of them, as he nervously toed his worn boot into the wooden floor, "I didn't hurt you, did I, Miss…?"

"Katie," She answered with a sweet smile as she stuck out her hand and shook his, before blushing. "Well, Katherine Sullivan actually, but I'm Katie- just call me Katie," She shook her head at her own flustered response, bending down to pick up the cans and boxes that were strewn all over the porch. "And I am fine; wouldn't have made it this long in life if falling on my backside broke me."

He stood completely dumfounded for a moment, before crouching down to join her; his eyes never leaving her face. "I'm Jack," he said, trying to catch her attention as he filled up his arms. "Jack Bondurant, my brother owns this place."

Bridget watched the young boy moon over her sister for another minute or two before she decided to make herself known, clearing her throat loudly. "And I am Katherine's older sister, Bridget."

Jack stood up, managing to balance the smaller load of food in his arms as a result of Katie's help before turning to look at her with a sheepish grin and an extended hand."Nice to meet you, ma'am."

"Likewise," Bridget answered evenly, returning the welcoming gesture automatically and sighing as the conversation dwindled. "Look, we are really sorry to show up on your porch unannounced like this, Jack, but our car ran off the road a few miles back and we were hoping to get some help."

He nodded quickly, not seeming to pay much attention to the words she was speaking as opposed to wanting to seem helpful in their situation. "Yeah, yeah, sure – of course. Come on in."

:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o:o

The inside of Blackwater Station wasn't exactly much to look at; just a simple wooden bar and a few crudely made round tables, but to a couple of soggy wet souls with nothing to their names it may as well have been the Waldorf Astoria in New York City for the immediate comfort it gave them. And it was so delightfully _warm_.

Bridget walked in and led Patrick over to a cast iron, pot bellied stove in the corner, hanging her wet coat on a chair as she held out her hands towards the heat with a sigh. "Just sit here a minute baby, and don't touch that – alright?" The boy nodded quietly as he mimicked the way she held out her hands instinctively rubbing them.

Jack dumped out the contents of his arms with little ceremony onto one of the tables before disappearing off with a shout. "Stay right here, alright? I'll be back."

Katie giggled from somewhere behind her and Bridget spun a weather eye in her direction, the warning look was not missed as her sister turned the smile into a cough.

"I sure am glad someone was here, would have been a shame to end up in the cold all night," she lamely explained as she wiped the water off of her arms.

"Yes, that was fortunate for us."

It wasn't another few minutes before Jack returned, this time with an armful of plain white towels handing them each one before brushing himself off.

Bridget gently folded the one he'd given her in favor of sharing one with Patrick; there certainly was no need to go about dirtying all those towels for no reason. Wet as she was, it was only rain water and that would take care of itself soon enough by standing in front of the stove.

"So," Jack piped up as he jumped over the bar with a bounding leap, his long legs cleared the counter with little effort. "What brings you ladies to Franklin County?"

"We're moving here from Roanoke," Katie answered, wrapping her towel around her shoulders and taking a seat on a bar stool, leaning her chin on her hands before continuing. "You see, our daddy had –"

"Katherine Anne," Bridget cut her off sharply, "there is no need for Jack here to listen to your life story."

"That's alright, Miss Bridget," Jack replied quietly, his voice and eyes lowered. "I don't mind hearing about it if she wants to talk."

She smiled in a practiced way at his politeness; the boy was certainly sweet, but there was _no_ reason he needed to know anything about _why_ they were here. "Well, that is very nice of you. But we are just making our way up to my grandfather's homestead on Cooper's Mountain, nothing special."

He seemed to instantly perk up at the mention of the location. "Cooper's Mountain, huh? Whose land?"

"Eamon MacManus," Bridget answered simply. "Passed away a few years back, I believe. Did you know him?"

For the first time in the half-hour that she'd known him, the boy seemed not to know what to say; instead, he rubbed at the back of his neck and avoided her now very interested eyes. "Uh, yeah, yeah, old man MacManus; he was a real nice fellow, did a lot of, uh, business with my brother, and yeah, it'd be about two years now he's been gone…so his place, huh?"

His ramble made her pause for a moment, but just before she opened up her mouth to speak, a loud rumbling noise echoed through the quiet room that Bridget very quickly identified as Katie's empty stomach. If there was one thing that was certain in the world aside from the sun and the stars, it was the fact that her sister required three square meals a day or there would be hell to pay.

Jack picked up on it instantly and laughed out loud, completely dropping the conversation. "Wow that sure was noisy! Are you hungry, Miss Katie?"

"A little," she answered with a shy chuckle, her cheeks reddening at the sudden attention to her hunger pangs. "The way _some _around here will tell it I always am. But I don't want to intrude; you were nice enough to let us in here and dry off. I don't want to eat you out of house and home too."

He shook his head emphatically and spun around to the stove. "No ma'am, my mama would strike me down from heaven if she knew I let a lady go hungry. How about I make some hamburgers? I ain't really good at much else, 'cept maybe fried eggs and bacon, but that's not a proper meal for suppertime. I don't really cook much."

A pull at Bridget's skirt let her know that Katie wasn't the only one who was hungry, and she reluctantly acquiesced to the offer as she helped the little boy climb up onto a stool at the bar, "That would be great, Jack." She frowned again at their ridiculous and unending misfortune; she couldn't even manage to feed her family these days without a handout from a stranger. "I'm fine, but I am sure Katie and little Patrick here would enjoy a hot meal. I just…I can't pay you much. I only have a few dollars to my name and we still have groceries to buy. But I'm good for it."

Jack only smiled warmly as he ruffled Patrick's hair, "Well, I gotta eat too, so it ain't any trouble. 'Course I can't be responsible for what it tastes like – I'll go ahead and warn you about that from the start."

His cheerful demeanor served to make her feel a little better; either the poor boy was too foolish to realize that she was absolutely mortified to take a hand out, or he didn't care. And as she sat there and smelled the amazing aroma of beef cooking for the first time in months, she found that _she_ really didn't care much either. In fact, by the time he served up the simple meal, Bridget was actively smiling and conversing with her sister and the charming young man. It seemed, when a huge smile broke out on Patrick's face as he contentedly ate the greasy meal that maybe their luck was starting to change.

Suddenly, over the loud pounding noise of rain on the roof a car engine could be heard rumbling down the road. It cut out just outside the building and Jack put down his fork and took a few steps to the front of the store to look out the window. He cursed to himself loudly and ran around the room to grab the two extra towels that weren't being used and covertly stashed them behind the bar where he was standing before going back to his meal without a beat.

Bridget watched the entire scene and swallowed hard as a wave of uneasiness washed over her at his odd behavior. "What's going on?" she asked nervously. "Who is that?"

"Nothin' much at all, Miss Bridget," he answered nonchalantly with a shrug, keeping his head down. "My brothers are just home."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, reviews are so very welcome and I prefer PM's on questions and issues...**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Yay, thanks to some awesome eyes...did a little edit...**

**All the same stuff about not owning applies...  
**

**Love all the response!**

* * *

If Bridget was ever inclined to be a superstitious woman, she would have noticed a long time ago that it rained every time something monumental was about to happen in her life, be it good or bad. It was raining when both Katherine and Patrick were born, when her mother died, when her father got into his accident, and there was a lightning storm of legendary proportions the night Mary and her husband passed.

Tonight the black skies completely opened up in a surge of water, wind, and hail when the eldest two Bondurant brothers walked into Blackwater Station. _Had_ she been so inclined she would have taken that sort of entrance as an omen of things to come, but she was far too practical to believe in something as silly as that.

Instead she froze like a doe in danger the instant the two men stomped through the doors. She tried to control her shaking hands, not wanting to alarm either Katie or Patrick, while attempting to corral the instant feeling of concern that arose from being alone in a room with three men that she didn't know from a hole in the ground. It was a recipe for absolute disaster, calling to a very real female fear on an almost primitive level; one that certainly wasn't helped by the saturated state of the cotton dress she was wearing. It had lost most of its decency in the rain and for the first time in her life she was actually thankful for the extra layers her slip and bra provided.

Bridget's quick eyes were drawn to the taller of the two men as he entered first. He appeared older than she was, and as he shook off the rainwater from his clothes she quickly formed the opinion that he had about all the grace of a bull in a china shop. As he staggered on his feet, the harsh smell of alcohol suddenly hit her nose with overwhelming pungency and it became quite clear just why he was off balance. But despite his initial untidy demeanor, he had a handsome face. A strong, well formed jaw that was dusted with at least two weeks' worth of scruff. He seemed to bear a slight resemblance to his younger brother behind the bar – from what she could glimpse beneath the brim of his hat, anyway.

"Goddamn it, Jack, I thought we said to close down tonight," he groused loudly before raising his head to finally take in the three people sitting in front of him. Pale blue-green eyes blinked rapidly and tried to focus through the red-rimmed fog that clouded their depths. He quickly removed his wet hat before his voice quieted down, though it lost none of its gravelly tone. "Beg your pardon for the language."

"It's no problem," Bridget answered calmly, standing up from her stool as a way to create a barrier between the men and her small family. "My name's Bridget Sullivan and this is my sister Katherine and my nephew Patrick. Jack was kind enough to let us in here out of the rain; we had car trouble a little ways up the road and had nowhere else to go."

A smile lit up the tall man's face, though it never quite reached his tired eyes, and he plopped down at the end of the bar. He pulled out a mason jar from deep in his jacket pocket, unscrewed the cap and took a few healthy gulps before dropping the container to the bar and barking out a laugh.

"Look at that, Jack. You managed to do something right for once. I should write this all down so I can remember it in the future."

Jack frowned at the insult and mumbled angrily, "Fuck you, Howard. You can't even spell 'future'."

Bridget's eyes flew open at the exchange, her hands shooting over to cover Patrick's ears as Katie let out a loud peal of giggles that caught the entire room by surprise. She tried to cover her mouth as her entire petite frame was wracked with tremors and by the time that she calmed herself down her cheeks and ears were flushed red with a combination of mirth and embarrassment. It was just what was needed to pull a genuine smile from both of the arguing brothers; Jack in particular.

"So… what business brings you ladies…here?"

A low, deep voice cut through the laughter, and Bridget's attention instantly snapped to the remaining brother, who had yet to make himself known. He removed his hat with an exhale of breath that sounded like a grumbled sigh and held it to his chest. His eyes lit on her for only a second before focusing sharply somewhere to her left.

Bridget swallowed hard as she stared back at him, trying to regain her bearings and her senses amidst the new tension. By the look of things, he certainly wasn't the eldest of the group, but by the way he naturally held undisputed authority in the small room, it was obvious that he was the head of the family. Even his physical stature drew her attention; where his brothers were tall and leanly muscled, he was considerably shorter, standing only three or so inches taller than she was. But what he lacked in height he made up for in build, wide shoulders and a broad chest, even through his layered clothes she could tell that he was as solid as a brick wall.

"Our car broke down up the road," she repeated, cursing the nerves that were made readily known in her trembling voice.

"Yeah," he grunted as his eyes moved back up to hers, the steely pale grey color only seemed to further his intimidation and did nothing to make her feel easier about the circumstances. "That part I got already. Why you up here?"

Bridget pulled back for a moment as she stared at him, realizing that he seemed to be irritated by the current conversation. He curled a toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other, and she _hated_ the fact that instead of formulating an intelligent, cutting reply that she should have been able to rattle off with little effort at his rudeness, all her female brain could focus on was the fact that the man in front of her was immensely attractive and had the most beautiful pair of lips she'd seen on any human being. That along with a rugged face, square jaw and the sort of presence that embodied masculinity on a level she had seen too few times in her life. It was, to say the least, unnerving.

"I'm…we're heading to my grandfather's homestead up on Cooper's Mountain," she finally answered after a pause.

The mere mention of the location seemed to evoke a similar peak of interest as it had earlier in Jack, and he cocked his head sharply.

"Whose land's that?"

A tiny flare of indignation began in the corner of her mind at his hard tone, and after looking away from the insane distraction of his mouth, Bridget managed to gain control of her thoughts. She wanted to tell him to totter off, that is was none of his damn business _what_ she was doing around here. But one look at his expression and she thought the better of it.

"Eamon MacManus. Are you familiar? He passed a couple years back and Jack says he knew you folks."

He glanced down at the floor for a moment before his eyes widened slightly, and he raised his head to look over at Jack with a stern glare. The boy's face drained of all color as his older brother shook his head slowly, drawing his full lower lip into his mouth and grumbling to himself. He finally turned his head back in her direction but kept his eyes off of her face as he answered her very matter-of-factly.

"I own that land."

The words came as a slap in the face and Bridget stood absolutely still as the statement failed to register. It was Katie's uneasy voice that snapped her out of it.

"Bridget?"

She turned her head around to her sister and sent her a stern look that implied her opinions were not warranted at the current time, before turning back with a forced but polite smile.

"I'm sorry, Mister... Bondurant? You must be mistaken about that."

"Name's Forrest," he grunted back as he placed his hat on the bar and straightened up, his hands settling firmly into the pockets of his coat as he continued. "And there ain't anything to mistake. I own it."

That was it. Any bit of apprehension, fear, and God forbid, proper politeness flew out of her body and left behind the remnants of her personality that she could thank her drunken Irish father for. Bridget crossed her arms and stared right at him as she answered him defiantly.

"No, you're wrong. I know it has to be a mistake, 'cause I have his will in my car and that says _I_ own it after he passes."

The petulance and volume of her voice did not go unnoticed. She could see Jack out of the corner of her eye look nervously back and forth between her and Forrest, while Howard leaned back on his stool, shifting so he was properly facing them as if getting ready to watch a show.

Forrest pulled a half-smoked cigar out of his coat pocket and began to fiddle with the gnawed end of it, picking off stray pieces of tobacco and completely ignoring the daggers that Bridget was shooting from her eyes. He chewed on his toothpick for another minute before looking up at her and taking a step into her personal space, his hard grey eyes focused right on hers. Her heart thundered in her chest, but she managed to keep her face blank. When he spoke again, his voice dropped in volume but ratcheted up ten-fold in its intensity.

"I don't mistake things where business is concerned. And you would have owned it, if he hadn'ta sold it to me before he died. But that ain't the case here."

Bridget stepped back involuntarily as he leaned further into her, taking a sharp, nervous breath through her nose and flinching, preparing for the worst. But Forrest made no move to threaten her; he simply remained close, doing nothing more than waiting for her reaction.

He'd purposely done it to test her, using his size and masculinity to gauge her mettle and she responded like any other shrinking violet – cowering away. The realization infuriated her. But she refused to be deterred and took a deep breath to center herself, and the moment she did she cursed her foolishness.

His scent filled her lungs and her brain was unable to override her physical reaction. He smelled like a man should – a combination of the cool rain, motor oil from the car he'd been riding in, a hint of cigar smoke and a faint whiff of sweat from a hard day's work. It was a heady combination, and one, she soundly reasoned, she would _never_ have noticed if she wasn't so incredibly agitated. Bridget stood as tall as she could and answered slowly, trying to process the information.

"You bought it from Eamon when he was alive, then?"

He stepped back from her when he realized that the disagreement was quickly ending, "Yeah, that's right."

"So I have nothing."

Bridget spoke to the air more than to a particular person. Her hands suddenly curled into tight fists as she tried to rein in the emotions that assaulted her with brutal force. A wave of nausea gripped her stomach and she bit down hard on the flesh of her cheek to stop the tears that were beginning to fill her eyes. What was she going to do? They had _nothing_…no home…no food…no money…and they couldn't go back…

"Bridget?" Katie's whispered voice came from behind her, trembling with uncertainty. "Where are we going to go?"

Her heart was pounding in her chest and she raised a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose as she squeezed her eyes shut. She wouldn't cry, she _never_ cried, not in front of complete strangers – men especially.

"Uh, Forrest…" Jack spoke up hesitantly.

Bridget opened her eyes in time to see the three brothers staring at each other with a strange intensity, as if they were having an entire argument without saying a word. It provided her with a much needed respite, and after a few deep breaths she was able to slow her heart rate and get herself under control.

Forrest finally grumbled and shook his head, looking back in Bridget's direction again before clearing his throat.

"Now… I know you didn't expect what happened…" He trailed off for a moment as if he was trying to think of the right words to say. "And I ain't in the habit of putting women out of a home, especially when there's a child…so, I'd be willing to discuss to an arrangement."

"What sort of arrangement?" Bridget answered cautiously as she crossed her arms. Her mind went in every conceivable direction at the suggestion. She might not have been from the "big city" but she had been around long enough and seen enough to know that most men found very few uses for women that didn't involve the removal of clothing. Though admittedly, right now, she really had few choices.

"I'm looking for help around here. I need people to cook and wait on customers. You do that and I'll let you stay in your Grandfather's place."

The offer took her by surprise and she couldn't help the foolish question that came out. "So I work for you and you'll let me have my land?"

"No, that ain't what I said," he replied shifting on his feet again as he chewed on his lower lip, his sharp grey eyes staring at her. "I don't use the house, all I need's the land…you ladies work for me and I'll let you stay there."

"I work for room and board."

"Yeah," Forrest answered. "That's my offer… I'd take it."

She thought about it for a moment and cleared her throat. "I'll be a tenant. I'd be thankful for that. But I don't want my sister waiting tables." Bridget's gaze fell on the fallen hem of his worn brown pants and pressed on. "You need help around here doing women's work, I'd imagine. Mending, laundry, and cleaning. I'll do all that and cook three meals a day for you."

He grunted and she took it as an acknowledgement. "And Katie's sharp as a tack- good at anything she puts her mind to. But I will not have her at the beck and call of men behind a bar all day long. I don't want her anywhere near what you've got in that jar there. I don't care where you got it, and it's none of my business; but it's not coming around either of them."

Howard chuckled at her comment and took a long sip of the clear liquid, seeming to enjoy her list of demands. Forrest for his part didn't seem to care one way or the other.

"That's what I got for a job."

"What about helping Howard with the animals?" Jack piped up once again and Forrest cleared his throat, visibly irritated with his little brother's continuing interruptions into their conversation.

"Now, last I remember Jack, that was gonna be _your_ job," he answered in the same monotone.

"Well, maybe she can help him and I can finally get to –"

Forrest's head snapped quickly in his direction, it was the fastest that Bridget had seen him move all night. "I see…so she'll help Howard with the animals, and you'll be working in the station."

It wasn't a question.

Jack opened his mouth and closed it again, before Howard burst into a bark of laughter. His hands pounded the bar loudly as he pointed at his stunned younger brother, taunting him.

"Aw, shucks, Jack, I imagine you're gonna be a fine cook."

"Fu-" Jack caught himself mid-curse when he looked up at the little blonde boy sitting at the counter who was looking right at him and settled on a less vulgar reply."Shut up, Howard."

Forrest stared down the younger man, and when he was satisfied that he wasn't going to speak again he nodded to himself and spoke out loud. "Alright, then."

Bridget put out her hand for him to shake upon his comment. "We have a deal, Mr. Bondurant."

He stared at her hand before tentatively reaching out and grabbing it very gently with his. The simple action completely fascinated her, and Bridget found herself at a loss as he pulled away. He had no problem at all putting on an intimidating show when he felt it necessary, but when it came time to actually touch her he treated her as if her hand was made of glass. It was a conscious choice to be delicate with her, and a contradiction to the hard calluses that lined his fingers and palm. She knew hands like that. Her father's had felt the same way, and the rough skin was a testimony that spoke volumes – this was a man that used his hands for hard work and his fists for fighting. Bridget reasoned that time would tell her just who met with them.

And somehow she _wanted _to believe that Forrest Bondurant would never use them on her or her family.

:o:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget stood in doorway of the small spare bedroom on the second floor of the station, watching as Katie opened up the worn wooden trunk that contained everything they owned to pull out a patchwork quilt made by their mother. She draped it over the bed for extra warmth. She was still trying to wrap her head around everything that had happened in the span of a few hours. They had gone from destitute and homeless to destitute and indentured. She tried to rationalize it and find the bright side to the situation, but it was proving to be near impossible.

After she and Forrest had made their agreement he sent Jack off to fetch their belongings from the broken down car, and _then_ informed her that the house he had promised them was in no condition to move into. No one had lived there or maintained the property since Eamon had died, and that neglect had taken its toll on the roof. From his gruff and succinct analysis it would take a few men no more than a month or two to fix it up. But she didn't have a few men to do the labor, or the money to pay them.

Once again she was relegated to an "arrangement" of his making, and the result was that the three of them would be allowed to stay in the spare bedroom at the station and when he had time he would find someone in town to do the work for her. Though he made it perfectly clear that the work would be done at a price that _he _negotiated and on terms that _he_ found favorable; Bridget was left completely at the mercy of a man that she'd known for all of four hours...again.

And it was driving her insane.

"Bridget, do you want to help me move the bed?" Katie asked as she grabbed the iron foot posts. "I think we should push it against the far wall across from the door, that way we'll have more room."

She nodded with a small smile, grabbing the posts on the other end and giving the old bed a strong push. It only took them a minute or so to get it placed exactly the way her sister suggested, and it did manage to make the room look larger. Then again it wasn't difficult to find space; the entire room was furnished with nothing more than a simple iron bed, a small dresser with a mirror and the trunk they'd brought.

Bridget shook her head and refused to think about it any longer tonight; it was giving her a headache. She crossed the floor and opened the trunk, fishing out their nightshirts and calling Patrick over so she could change him up. The poor boy was practically falling asleep as she tried to maneuver his arms through the simple garment, and normally she would have been frustrated at his lack of attention, but tonight she couldn't scold him. He was tired because for the first time in a week he'd been able to eat an actual meal, and it was this humbling thought that finally brought peace and quiet to her racing mind.

The three of them changed up and climbed onto the small bed, moving into a practiced arrangement of bodies that they had gotten used to after years of close quarters. Katie slept closest to the wall, Patrick in the middle and Bridget nearest to the door. The boy was asleep the minute his head hit the pillow, and the sisters stared at each other in the growing darkness. Katie's big blue eyes were filled with a gentle calmness that filtered into her voice.

"We were very lucky today."

"What do you mean?"

"Finding this place," Katie answered with a yawn. "Having a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and people to watch out for us. We are really lucky."

"We don't know these men," Bridget said seriously.

"What's to know? They took us in when they could have left us in the cold…and bad people don't do that." Katie's voice became a low murmur as she drifted off to sleep.

Her words echoed softly in the quiet room, until the loud, rhythmic patter of raindrops on the roof finally drowned them out. Bridget stared at the two people resting peacefully beside her and finally closed her eyes with a silent prayer that her sister was right and she had made the right decision. Tomorrow would certainly tell.

* * *

**Please let me know what ya think : )**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Not a whole lot of action going on, the characters are getting settled as I am...but important none the less.**

* * *

It felt like she had only closed her eyes for a minute when the weak rays of the dawn sun began to peek into the window at the foot of the bed. Bridget yawned and stretched out her legs as she sleepily took stock of her surroundings, suddenly the unfamiliar room and the memories of yesterday's events came crashing down on her again- so much for waking up in a relaxed mood. A tug on her hair pulled her attention out of her day dreams and down to the little boy next to her, Patrick was winding her curls around his fingers and grinning up at her like nothing at all had changed. She couldn't stop the smile that spread out on her face at his simple expression and decided that while she might not be particularly happy about what had happened; she was determined to make the best of it.

That decided on, Bridget reached across the bed and slapped Katie's rather prone and upturned bottom with a hard, playful swat.

"Ow! I'm awake." Katie grumbled into the pillow.

Bridget swung her legs out of bed and stood up with another stretch, "Good, 'cause I would prefer to start things off on a good foot this morning."

She shivered slightly as the chill of the early spring morning seeped beneath her white cotton nightdress and nipped at her bare skin. Her eyes fell on the trunk of clothes before she realized that they had been so out of place and tired last night that she'd managed to put Patrick to bed without washing his face or hands. That was something that had to be remedied immediately.

"I'm gonna go find some water and a cloth so we can wash up a bit," she said quietly. "I'd appreciate it if you were out of that bed when I got back."

"Yeah alright, I hear you."

:o:o:o:o:o:

Bridget poked her head out of the door and down the small hallway. There were only three other doors to choose from, one directly across from her, one next to their room, and a small, narrow door at the end that she quickly realized must be a washroom. When she was quite sure that no one else was around she quickly walked down the hall and opened up the wooden door- what was revealed actually made her want to cry in absolute joy. They actually had a bathroom with an honest to goodness tub, sink and toilet. A house full of men who couldn't be bothered to mend their clothes or shave had running water!

It was a small comfort that they'd always had in Roanoke, and she was quite sure they wouldn't have in Eamon's cabin; perhaps it was a small way to make staying at Blackwater more bearable. Bridget smiled as she quickly located a couple of washcloths in a crude cabinet by the sink and soaked up the towels, wringing them out and making her way back to the bedroom.

"There's a bathroom down the hall." She couldn't help but gush to Katie while the girl brushed out her fine blonde hair; it had taken on the look of a rat's nest due to her hard sleeping.

"Is there a tub?"

"Yes," Bridget sighed happily as she wiped a wet cloth over Patrick's face and hands. "So if you wake up tonight and you can't find me, you know where I am hiding."

Katie smirked as she pulled on the only clothes she owned that were suitable for farm work, an old pair of denim overalls and a long-sleeved white shirt. She mocked her sister's normally consistent commentary about behavior.

"Is that proper conduct for a lady in a house of strange men, Bridget?"

The jab earned her a frown and a raised eyebrow. "You need to be worrying about your own behavior little Miss. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that I expect you to be polite today and make sure to be modest in the way you talk and act around Mr. Bondurant."

Katie rolled her eyes as she braided her long hair, "Yeah, a real charmer that man. I think I might end up tipsy on the fumes by the end of the day. 'Course I'll act right, always do."

"Good," Bridget answered as she wrestled Patrick into a pair of pants and a shirt. Though when her eyes flicked up to look at Katie admiring herself in the mirror, she was more than a little concerned with the way her outfit looked. The faded pants hugged her rear end a little too closely for her tastes, and she wanted to tell her to change- but there weren't exactly any other options. Suddenly a sinking feeling filled her gut, and the uncomfortable realization dawned that Howard wasn't the Bondurant that she was particularly worried about seeing Katie looking the way she did.

That boy had best keep his eyes to himself if he knew what was good for him.

Bridget quickly stripped off her nightdress and threw on her bra, slip and a faded mauve dress that was still in decent enough condition in case she was seen by the public, but would hold up well to getting wet while she was doing laundry and cleaning. It had a modest a-line skirt that fell just below her knees and the three button front had a conservative scoop neck that flattered her generous chest without drawing unwanted attention. She wove her long curls into a manageable braid and pinned it up into a bun to keep it out of the way when she worked. She caught her own reflection in the mirror and sighed at what was shown, an average woman who was beginning to look older than her years.

:o:o:o:

The three girls made their way down to the first floor of the station a little after five in the morning. Bridget held Patrick's hand as she looked into the silent room, wanting to call out to see if anyone was around. There wasn't a need, as they walked into the main room she caught the smell of incredibly strong coffee and faintly heard a shuffling of papers. Her eyes wandered to one of the round tables and saw the outline of a man in a light brown sweater, hunkered over and scribbling in a ledger as various others were stacked all around him; it was Forrest. The minute their feet crossed the threshold, his broad shoulders tensed and remained that way until she spoke.

"Good morning, Mr. Bondurant. I'd like to make breakfast if you don't mind." Bridget tried to put every ounce of civility she could into her tone. They hadn't exactly had the smoothest of meetings last night.

"Yeah, that's fine." His voice was low and deep, a trace of sleep still remained giving it an ever huskier tone than she'd heard yesterday, and once again she cursed the foolish part of her brain that even noticed.

Forrest did not look up to acknowledge any of them, instead his eyes remained down and buried in his work. Bridget decided to sit Patrick down at the table next to Katie and as far from him as possible, there was no need for little fingers to meet important papers. With that settled, she made her way over to the back of the bar, quickly starting the gas stove and making herself familiar with the layout of the kitchen area. It wasn't very difficult, most of the canned goods and preserves were stored on homemade shelves in the underside of the bar, while a newer style GE refrigerator unit stood in the far corner of the room in front of the curtain covered entrance to the pantry that concealed the dry goods.

Bridget settled on making something simple- eggs, bacon and corn cakes. There wasn't time to make any sort of biscuit dough, she'd save that for dinner tonight, and she wasn't quite sure what Forrest liked to eat so she didn't want to be too adventurous. But she figured that there wasn't a red-blooded man alive that objected to bacon, or anything that was fried up in its fat. However, whether he ate the food or not, the god-awful coffee had to go. She really wanted a cup and wasn't about to subject her stomach to _whatever_ was sitting in the percolator at the moment. Bridget discreetly looked over her shoulder to make sure that Forrest still had his head buried in the paper work and his eyes intently focused on whatever it was he was doing, before taking the opportunity to dump out the offensive liquid and make some more.

A sense of calm settled over her as she began to move around the modest cooking space, there were only a few things Bridget had inherited from her late mother, but hearty recipes and love of cooking were certainly two of them. The Sullivan family never had much money, but when she was a little girl they always had a full table and a good meal; it was those things she missed the most these days.

After taking a few minutes to locate the cast iron pans she quickly mixed up the batter for the cakes, pulled the eggs from the refrigerator and set about scrambling them before adding in a little cream and a bit of salt and pepper for flavor. She frowned a bit when she realized they had nothing in the way of fresh herbs. It was something she would definitely need for seasoning her suppers, and she made a mental note to ask Forrest about it…eventually.

A loud stomping noise suddenly echoed from the upstairs, and a few minutes after she started to fry the bacon Jack bounded in the kitchen.

"Geez, Miss Bridget that smells so dang good it woke me out of a dead sleep."

Bridget couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm in his voice, even if the disheveled state of his clothes suggested that he might not have woken up _quite_ yet. "Well thank you, Jack. It'll be done in a few more minutes. Why don't you go ahead and sit down."

He did as he was told and walked over to the table, taking a seat _right_ next to Katie.

Bridget looked up to watch intently as Jack's bright smile quickly found an answering one reflected on Katie's pretty face. While two of them began to make small talk about the day ahead and the quality of their night's sleep, she strained to listen to the conversation. In fact she was concentrating _so_ intently at the young pair she nearly stuck her hand into the scorching hot pan of grease. A loud spatter of bacon fat caught her attention and she pulled her hand to safety. Bridget shook her head and shoveled out the cooked meat onto a plate, sighing at her stupidity.

When she looked up again, she noticed that her little "mistake" hadn't gone unobserved. Forrest's sharp grey eyes were focused right on her and when she realized it she froze immediately, her nerves rattling under the intense scrutiny. The strange look he was giving her suddenly made Bridget feel as if she was standing in the kitchen wearing something positively indecent, or worse completely naked, instead of the modest knee-length dress she had on. But the minute she caught his stare with one of her own he quickly looked back down at his work as if he had been caught misbehaving.

So he could look at her, just not while she was aware of it. The realization made Bridget uneasy, and it took her a moment to get her racing heart under control before she turned around and went back to the stove.

:o:o:o:

The breakfast was ready a short while later; Bridget called Katie to help carry out the plates of food and lastly grabbed the fresh pot of coffee. She mentally took stock of the seats at the table as she walked over, there were five of them, and four were occupied. She took a deep breath and came to the side of his chair.

"More coffee, Mr…"

"Forrest." He grunted. She bit her lip at his tone, swallowing a nasty remark about being polite to a lady as he closed his books and stacked them neatly beside him.

"Would you like more coffee, Forrest?" Bridget asked again.

He didn't reply, merely pushed his empty cup in her direction and reached out to serve himself a heaping plate of food. When he was finished she expected him to start eating, but she was shocked and immensely pleased when he gestured to Katie for Patrick's plate. It was a pleasant surprise to see him hand out food to everyone, as if the meal was meant for a family instead of being served by a tenant to a land lord. Bridget helped Patrick cut up his food and watched out of the corner of her eye as Jack and Katie starting shoveling down breakfast like it was going to get up and walk away. She shook her head and decided against an impromptu lecture on table etiquette, there were just too many things to worry about this morning.

Even Forrest should have got a stern talking to about his manners. Bridget watched closely as he took a small bite of each piece of food first and chewed methodically, as if deciding whether or not he liked it, before leaning forward in his seat, resting his arms on the table on either side of his plate and digging in earnestly.

Apparently her cooking had passed his scrutiny.

"You ever worked on a cow farm before, Katie?" Jack asked around a mouthful of eggs, "'Cause it's gross."

"No." She answered, pausing for a second to take a big sip of milk, "But I love animals and I have a strong stomach, so I guess I'll be able to handle whatever comes my way."

"I can come by for a while, make sure you don't need help."

"I'll be just fine, Jack."

A little while later the front door of the station loudly slammed open rattling on its hinges and interrupting the conversation as Howard came storming in. Bridget looked up from her plate and noticed that the eldest brother was in a rough state for quarter of six in the morning; his hat rode low on his face and his hands were trembling. It was a look that she had become all too familiar with growing up, and she was willing to bet what little money she owned that he had a headache and a queasy stomach that only a jar of rot gut whiskey could help with. She wiped her mouth with her napkin and stood up to ask a question that she already knew the answer to.

"Can I get you anything to eat this morning, Mr. Bondurant?"

"It's real good." Jack grinned as he piped up, "Forrest ain't stopped eating since she put it on the table."

"Is that right?" Howard took off his hat and ran his hands through his wild brown hair, his voice sounded as rough as he looked as he answered her.

"No thank you ma'am just came in to get a minute with my brother and steal this little lady for the day. But somethin' tells me I'm a fool for passing it up if Forrest finds it that good."

"Well alright, if you are sure," She answered quietly.

Forrest waited to acknowledge his brother until he had completely cleared his second helping of food from his plate and wiped his mouth. He stood up from the table and grabbed his books, walking off with Howard towards a small room in the back of the station without looking back. Bridget's ears suddenly perked up in surprise as his deep voice floated into her ears no louder than a grunting mumble.

"Thank you."

She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face and the blush that rose on her cheeks at the two simple words. He'd _enjoyed_ what she had done, the meal she'd made, and was appreciative of it. Bridget's mind started up again immediately trying to compare the gruff but thankful man who sat beside her at breakfast and the steely, intimidating one that she briefly met last night, and the more she thought about it the more that she came to the realization that there was a lot more to Forrest than met her eye and she was determined to figure him out- petulant nuances and all.

:o:o:o:o:o

Katie stood in the middle of the small barn with a scrunched up look on her pretty face as she tried to take another deep breath through her nose. She wasn't exactly sure just when she figured out that Howard was actively trying to be as disgusting as possible to turn her stomach, but she was pretty sure that it was somewhere between making her muck out an absurd amount from the dirty stalls and when he slaughtered one of the squealing pigs right in front of her.

For the first time in her life Katie actually wished she'd skipped breakfast, because the eggs and bacon she greedily consumed were doing an uncomfortable flip-flop every time she took a breath. But she was bound and determined to get this job done.

Besides, it was just a nasty smell. Katie logically reasoned that there had to be some sort of way to get used to it. An experimental breath through her mouth provided the much needed respite that she was looking for. It was still absolutely revolting, but at least removing her nose from the equation seemed to take away a brunt of it. An idea dawned on her that tomorrow that she'd see if she could steal a bit of Bridget's perfume to put on her collar, or maybe find aftershave from one of the men, that ought to help.

"You still here, little lady?" Howard's slurred tone was laced with laughter as it floated across the space.

"'Course I am." Katie replied with a chuckle, "I told you I'm gonna help like I am supposed to. So what's next?"

She put down her shovel and walked over to where he was standing amidst four or five cows, feeling absolutely amazed as he pulled an open jar of corn whiskey off a shelf next to him and took a couple of large swallows like it was water. He seemed completely immune to the revolting odors that wafted all around them. Suddenly she wondered if maybe putting her nose in that jar every few minutes wouldn't help with the smell…it couldn't hurt.

"Got a dairy cow that needs to be milked, you ever done it?"

"Can't say that I have."

Howard pulled out a small wooden stool and a metal bucket, placing it beside the animal right next to him and patting the worn surface. She obeyed, tentative at the prospect of being so close to him; Bridget's lecture about behaving properly echoed through her mind and she felt uneasy about being there with no one else around. But they had worked all morning together without incident, and this was the only way to do what he asked. She steadfastly reasoned with her nervous thoughts that he hadn't done anything to make her feel uncomfortable yet, and she needed to be respectful of an elder.

Katie stared straight ahead at the cow's udders as she suddenly felt Howard crouch down next to her, his shoulder touched hers and she could smell the sharp bite of the whiskey coming off his body as he reached out to grab her hands. She flinched at the sudden movement, jumping back and reflexively curling her hands into her chest in an attempt to turn away.

"Now I ain't gonna hurt you." He spoke quietly, in a calm voice that surprised her.

Katie turned her head to look at him, her wide blue eyes betraying the fear that was washing over her body. She expected to see anger or rage on the man's face, but instead of she was surprised in what she found. Beyond the slight glaze of alcohol there was a tinge of shock and genuine hurt. She swallowed hard and felt a bit of shame at her rude behavior; she'd automatically assumed that he was going to do something horrible to her because he smelled like her father, and _that _deserved an apology. Katie stared at her feet as she spoke quietly.

"I'm sorry Mr. Bondurant, you just startled me is all. "

He took her apology at face value, nodding his head. "Ain't anything to apologize for, you ready now?"

She nodded and let him take one of her hands, guiding it to the udder. "Now just don't go yank on the damn thing; you gotta put your hand right up at the top and pull down smooth."

Howard showed her the motion a couple of times before he removed his rough hand and watched as Katie expertly mimicked the action, smiling as a stream of milk shot out and into the pail with a loud hiss. She turned to face him and was happy to see the look of satisfaction he gave back.

"Alright then, I'll leave ya to it.

:o:o:o:o:o

By the early afternoon Katie wondered how she could have ever thought anything bad about the man. Howard, despite his well soused exterior, was a sweet, loveable oaf with a sharp sense of humor. There was more than once that he had her giggling like a school girl or downright clutching her sides as hysterical laughter poured out of her mouth. His stories about growing up with Forrest and Jack were some of the funniest things she had ever heard in her life. It seemed very clear to her that he was a broken man who had been through something awful and retreated to whiskey to hide from it, but beneath that was someone who loved his family and would do anything to protect his brothers.

"Got one last thing, if you're up for it," Howard taunted cryptically.

"Yeah, what's that?" Katie replied as her hands settled on her hips. "You ain't managed to get the better of me yet!"

He snickered to himself and waved her over to one of the large brown cows. The animal was wedged into a very narrow space that looked like it was designed to hold it completely still and he pulled out a large black rubber glove, similar to one that was used to wash dishes – except this one was big enough to reach all the way up her arm to her shoulder. Katie was just about to ask him what he planned on asking her to do when Jack appeared in the doorway of the barn.

"Hey Katie, how's it going!"

"Don't you have tables to wait on?" Howard said pointedly as he took a swig from his jar.

Jack's face soured at the insult. "Fuck you Howard, it ain't busy and Miss Bridget told me she'd look over things so I could take a break."

"What about Forrest, huh, what'd he say about it?"

The younger brother coughed nervously, his hazel eyes darting to the ground before he spoke. "He's busy in his office so he don't know. But I ain't gonna be long, so he won't find out."

Howard shook his head and sighed as he took another sip of whiskey. "Yeah, you tell me how that goes." He turned back to Katie and handed her the large glove, gesturing for her to put it on before he spoke with a cock-eyed smile.

"Ready?" She nodded and he continued, "Now this heifer's s'posed to be pregnant and there's only one way to know for sure."

Katie listened intently as he began to explain the location of the womb inside the cow and that the best way to test would be to feel for it. Her mind ticked off the facts until the last piece slid into place, she was wearing a long rubber glove because she had to stick her hand _into_ the animal, and when Howard lifted up the cow's tail she suddenly realized _where_ she had to put it.

Well, if she'd managed to do everything else today there was no reason she couldn't handle doing this, and taking one look over her shoulder at Jack's face gave her the last bit of confidence she needed. He was probably subject to the same thing at one time or another, and if he could do it she didn't want to seem like she wasn't brave enough. So with a deep breath she pulled over her stool and stepped up to the animal's back end.

She tried not to panic as she quickly found herself literally shoulder deep into the wrong end of a heifer. But with Howard standing next to her very calmly instructing what to do and where to feel, Katie relaxed and began to concentrate. After a minute she found what he was describing, a firm little circular mass that felt like it was covered in floating Jell-O.

"I think I found it!" She gasped.

Howard's eyebrows rose up in surprise and a genuine smile fell across his scruffy face, "Alright now, little lady! Now how big is it, like a little field mouse or bigger, like a cat?"

"A mouse or maybe kitten? It's not as big as a grown cat." Katie answered as she gently felt around inside the cow.

He smoothly had her withdraw her hand and patted her on the shoulder proudly. "That means she's about three or four months along now."

"That was amazing, Mr. Bondurant, I ain't felt anything like that before. A real calf, before it's born." Katie was awestruck as she looked up at him, unable to keep the complete feeling of joy from seeping into her voice. She turned around to see Jack staring at her with a strange look on his face, if she wasn't familiar with the turn of phrase "green behind the gills" she would have been alarmed to notice that all color had drained from his face, leaving a slight tinge of green behind.

"Wow, you alright Jack?" Katie asked concerned.

"Yeah he's fine," Howard laughed. "Boy can't take anything that upsets his _delicate_ stomach."

"Fu-," Jack swallowed hard and turned in a flash to run out of the barn, tripping over his own two feet to race back up towards the station. His brother laughed loudly and Katie shook her head at the familial torment.

She looked over at the oldest Bondurant and sighed. "That wasn't very nice."

"Nah, it wasn't."

:o:o:o:o:o:

Bridget took a deep breath and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. She was absolutely exhausted. It was quite a feat; somehow a woman who had been working from sun up to sundown for the better part of thirty years had never dealt with anything as monumental as the unending laundry and mending needs of Forrest and Jack Bondurant. It certainly didn't help things that she'd been forced to do it the old fashioned way, as somehow the man who had a new refrigerator with a freezer unit and running water in rural Franklin County had seen fit not to bother with a washing machine. By the time she'd finished her third load of filthy and destroyed pants and sweaters; her back was starting to protest something awful.

Finally she grabbed the last bit of drying clothes from the line and folded it into a basket, deciding that hem sewing and other repairs could wait until tomorrow. There was only so much that one woman could be expected to do it a single day, and as she looked up at the sun that was beginning to fall in the afternoon sky she reasoned that it was as good a time as any to get a head start on making dinner. She climbed up the stairs of the station and smiled at Patrick, who had contented himself with making piles of different colored stones.

"I'm going inside for a minute to do a few things, baby." She spoke carefully to the distracted boy, "Now I want you to stay right here until I get back." He stared at her with a broad smile and nodded as he jumped off the deck to explore the dirt to find the perfect colored rock for his next group.

Bridget set the heavy basket of clothes against her hip as she walked into the front door of the station. Her tired eyes flickered up to the clock on the wall, it was a little after three in the afternoon- already. The quiet murmur of voices filled the air and she looked around to take in four or five people sitting down at the tables, a small flare of aggravation flared up as she noticed that every single one of the patrons had a mason glass full of moonshine that they were sipping on like it was nothing at all.

She wasn't stupid enough to think that just because prohibition was the law of the land that people didn't drink. She'd _lived_ with it for long enough to know that the people in the hills and the mountains of Virginia supplied the rest of the country with the stuff. It flowed like a river from the Appalachians down through cities like Roanoke and rode the rails from there to the metropolitan centers like Chicago and New York.

It made sense that someone like Forrest would look the other way as people brought it into his small station; there was no doubt that in desperate times like this he was probably enjoying a little extra money under the table from folks who wanted to enjoy it under his roof. But Bridget would've been lying to herself if she said that she wasn't a little disappointed in the situation, she'd hoped to avoid it all together. In her experience liquor brought nothing but trouble and heartache. A shiver went up her spine as she remembered with chilling clarity that it was the reason they were in Franklin County to begin with.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to banish the thought as she walked past the small room at the back of the station that she'd learned was Forrest's office. It was empty at the moment and she peered into the confined space, suddenly remembering that she'd wanted to ask what time he wanted to have supper prepared. Bridget gently put down the basket and walked in, surmising that he wouldn't have gone very far leaving the door open like it was. She made sure to be respectful, knowing that is was completely rude to intrude on his business, and she kept her eyes off the open ledgers that sat open on the old wooden desk.

In fact it was completely by chance that her eyes lit on an open piece of paper next to his books, and she would have ignored it if she hadn't noticed her grandfather's name on it. Bridget disregarded every bit of propriety as she walked over to the desk and picked up the piece of worn paper. It was a bill of sale agreement written in very cramped, but precise handwriting that formally announced the sale and transfer of property from one Eamon MacManus to Forrest Bondurant, on July 31st 1928 for the price of…twenty cases of apple brandy and fifty cases of whiskey.

Bridget's jaw dropped open at the discovery and she couldn't stop the fury from rising in her gut. Her hands shook and she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, she'd lost her family homestead for _moonshine_! She was so distracted and caught up in her emotions that she missed the sound of someone else walking into the small room. Suddenly a low, familiar voice rumbled into her ears and her heart stopped at the tone of the accusation.

"Just what the hell do you think you are doin' in here."

* * *

**Please leave a note behind...love the feedback!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Sure I'll find something to edit in here...but I'm just having that kinda day where I can't be bothered : )**

**Thank you for all the response, if you enjoy please let me know!**

**Without further ado...**

* * *

"_Just what the hell do you think you are doin' in here?"_

Bridget froze instantly at the sound of his voice. Her stomach dropped as she turned around, taking stock of what was happening, she was in his private office and intruding on his personal business - it was not a position she wanted to be in.

Forrest stood in the doorway taking up every inch of the narrow space with his considerable size. This was not going to be a situation that she was able to run away from. His sharp eyes lit on her panicked ones for a long pause and then shot right down to the piece of paper that she still had clutched in her hand.

"I asked you a question." His voice was a strange combination of scolding and intensity, as if he'd caught a child disobeying and was now about to mete out a lesson.

She opened her mouth and the automatic "I'm sorry" was already sitting on the tip of her tongue. But after a pause Bridget felt the indignation return to her thoughts again, she deserved an answer for how this had happened. How she'd lost her family land to some sort of crooked, _illegal_ backroom deal. She squared up her shoulders and stared right back at him, crossing her arms across her chest for some measure of support as she answered.

"I was waitin' to talk and you weren't in here."

Bridget watched as Forrest processed her statement. His brow furrowed and he looked puzzled, as if he didn't expect her to do anything other than apologize. He reached into the pocket of his sweater and pulled out a toothpick, putting in into his mouth before taking a grumbling breath and looking up at her face again as he continued in that same deliberate and even tone.

"And what about 'waitin' to talk' means you can touch what's mine?"

He took a step into the room towards her and this time, unlike the previous night, when he moved in on her personal space she didn't back down. Bridget stuck out her chin defiantly as he stopped right in front of her, just far enough away that they weren't touching one another, but close enough that she could smell him. Once again that incredibly unique and utterly masculine smell floated up from him and into her nose. It took everything she had to fight the urge to lean in, close her eyes and take a deep breath.

Her fingers curled tightly around the piece of paper in her hand and she bit down on the inside of her mouth to snap herself out of the foolish stupor. Bridget looked him in the eye and without another thought on the matter answered him in a furious tone.

"How _dare_ you talk to me like I am committing a crime when you bought my grandfather's goddamn land with whiskey?"

The venom in the accusation was not lost on him. Forrest's gaze narrowed and the continual roll that the toothpick had been casually taking around his full lips stopped as his jaw visibly clenched. She waited for him to say something in return, to defend himself against the allegation, but as the seconds ticked away with no reply her temper began to get the better of her. The entire situation began to play out in her mind, and as she laid out the facts it became clear to her that Forrest was more than a suffering business owner who allowed his patrons to indulge from time to time under his roof with the hope that it would increase his profit.

This was a man that _traded_ in liquor, and in an amount that indicated that he was able to access and move large quantities of it.

Bridget gritted her teeth and when she finally spoke she yelled far louder than she intended. "What in the hell was my grandfather doing with that much moonshine? Was he bootlegging?"

The minute the angry words left her mouth he was on her, taking another step forward until his face so close that she could feel the agitated puffs of breath that came out of his nose. His voice dropped to a whispered growl and the calm way he spoke unnerved her worse than if he had screamed.

"You need to hush up that mouth- _now_. 'Cause I don't take kindly to people being in my business, especially when it don't concern them."

His grey eyes bored hard into hers and Bridget's opened wide as her anger mixed with fear to create and overwhelming rush of adrenaline. She could feel her cheeks redden and her face burn as she fought to control her unconscious physical reaction to him. This was a man, one who was dominating her without even raising his voice, and it struck her in such a bizarrely primal way that she couldn't suppress the pounding of her heart or the twist in her gut.

"It concerns me." Her inner turmoil was readily apparent in the shaking reply she managed to angrily choke out, "I lost my inheritance because you and I think I deserve an explanation."

"I don't think you do." He replied matter-of-factly, "That sale was between me and your grandfather, and he ain't alive anymore. That leaves me as the only person who needs to be concerned with the arrangement, so I don't give a damn what you think you deserve, Bridget."

He'd said her name.

Suddenly the only thing her ridiculous brain could focus on was the way her name sounded falling from those plump beautiful lips in that low, deep voice. Bridget scoffed at her stupidity and she opened her mouth, determined to get back in control of herself. An angry retort rushed to the tip of her tongue but died instantly when her eyes fell from his face and caught sight of something at the neckline of his shirt. She looked closer at the faded ivory colored collar and her heart seized up when she realized what she was looking at- a scar, a jagged, thick scar that ran across his neck.

Forrest's throat had been cut. It had been sliced nearly from ear to eat and he'd _survived_. What kind of man was he!? And worse yet what had she done to her family by entering into an arrangement with him?

Bridget finally lost her nerve and stepped back, thrusting the piece of paper in her hand against the hard wall of his chest and letting it go. Without another word she stepped around him and practically ran out of the room, needing to clear her head and get away from him.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget spent the rest of the afternoon in an absolutely abysmal mood. She didn't see him again. Forrest stayed in his office and she kept herself occupied with making supper. Though when she found herself aggressively cutting the cold shortening into the biscuit dough she soundly reasoned that she was far from being in control. In fact the entire menu was an exercise in stress relief, mashed potatoes that had to be beaten smooth, sausage gravy that was whisked so hard it was silky and fried pork chops that she'd pounded until they were thin.

And the more she worked the more irritated she became. He pushed her aside as if she was nothing but a simpering little servant, a mindless woman who wasn't worth having a conversation with. How _dare_ he tell her that he "didn't give a damn" about what she thought! Her entire life was in upheaval because of him, and he couldn't be bothered to care.

Bridget made enough racket slamming pots and pans around at one point that one of the drunken travelers sitting at a back table called out to see what all the noise was about. She snapped her head up and shot him a look that was so cold it could have given someone a case of frostbite in the middle of the desert in August. He wisely looked away.

"Jack!" She yelled angrily across the floor to get his attention. "Dinner is going to be ready in a few minutes. I don't think we need company when we eat."

He stared at the single table of five people in the far corner and walked over to where she was standing in front of the stove. "Uh, Forrest usually lets them stay." He spoke timidly.

"Well I am _not_ Forrest." She snapped as she started to spoon the potatoes into a large bowl, "So get rid of them. If they want to come back and rot their damn brains with whiskey they can do it _after_ we eat."

Jack paused for a minute, his large hazel eyes darting between the furious Irish woman in front of him and the open door of his older brother's office. As if being summoned by some odd turn of fortune, at that same moment Forrest walked out of the room towards the front of the station, nodding as the patrons acknowledged him by name. His eyes never moved in her direction.

"Bridget, I-"

Her last bit of patience snapped at the accidental lack of propriety and she shouted at him. "That's _Miss_ Bridget to you, young man! Where are your goddamn manners? And I said get those people out of here, NOW!"

"I…uh…" The boy stuttered nervously and Bridget followed his stare over to Forrest who was standing at the door with his hands buried in the pockets of his sweater. Her eyes shot daggers, almost daring him to say something back to her. He didn't.

Instead Forrest calmly pulled a cigar out of his pocket and picked at it for a moment before looking back up at his brother. "Well, you gonna do what the lady says?"

Jack nodded quickly and moved to the back of the room, making short work of the people that were sitting down. There were a few grumbles and more than one inappropriate word exchanged, but with Forrest standing at the door chewing on an unlit cigar, his hands fisted in his pockets there was no trouble at all.

Bridget shook her head exasperated at his behavior and tucked a loose strand of curly hair behind her ear. For the life of her she couldn't figure him out, Forrest had called her a lady and demanded that his brother show her respect not two hours after doing the exact opposite himself.

And as she let out a deep breath she raised her eyes to the front of the room to notice that he was looking at her again.

:o:o:o:o:o:

She had just finished putting the food on the table a little after five o'clock when Howard and Katie walked into the front door of the station with little Patrick in tow. Bridget looked quickly at her sister to make sure that she was alright after her day away, and discovered that other than being covered from head to toe in dirt and smelling awful, her big blue eyes were absolutely shining.

"My gosh, Bridget, I learned _so _much today!" Katie gushed as she walked up to the bar. "Didn't I do better than you thought, Mr. Bondurant?"

Howard laughed as he patted her on the shoulder proudly and replied, "You did a hell of a job, little lady. Looks to me like Jack is gonna be stuck being a waitress as long as you are around."

The insult did not go unnoticed and she could hear Jack mumbling from somewhere behind her. It sounded suspiciously like a curse, and she shot him a look that reflected her feeling.

Katie was still beaming from the praise when she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, groaning loudly. "I am so hungry I could die."

"Well I'm going to get goin'." Howard announced out of nowhere, before turning to the door.

"Like hell you are." Bridget replied angrily. "You didn't eat breakfast this morning and you are leaving without supper? I ain't letting you work from sun up to sundown like a jackass and not take care of yourself."

He raised his brows in shock and nodded his head, mumbling quietly as he took off his hat. "I guess I'll eat then."

"Good."

Out of the corner of her eye Bridget saw Katie take one look at the towel covered basket of steaming hot buttermilk biscuits and make a bee-line for the table with Patrick.

"Stop right there!" She yelled pointing at her and the little blonde boy she held onto who was practically trailing a cloud of dirt behind him. "You know better than that. Get upstairs and wash your hands and face right now. If you touch that table before you are clean I swear I will put you over my knee and paint your back porch red. I don't care how old you are."

Katie frowned at her sister's temper before grumbling, "Yes _ma'am_." She crouched down and let the little boy jump onto her back before walking up the stairs without another word.

The three Bondurant brothers moved towards the table a moment later and her angry eyes flashed up to catch them, and she scolded them just as quickly.

"What do you think are you doing? I said hands washed to sit at my table. That includes you three!"

They all stopped in their tracks. Jack took one look at her face before scrambling off upstairs after Katie and Patrick. Even Forrest and Howard listened without complaint, walking around the bar to the sink to scrub their hands. Bridget laughed to herself as the two grown men dried their hands and made their way back to the table.

Lord help her, she sounded like her mother.

Howard suddenly stopped as he walked past, leaning over the bar towards her with a devilish smile glinting in his pale green eyes before he questioned, "Now for the future - if I forget to wash my hands do I get the same punishment?"

Bridget shook her head and couldn't stop either the blush that rose on her cheeks or the smile that spread across her face. Her anger evaporated as a gentle laugh puffed out of her mouth and she rolled her eyes with a sigh, "For the love of God. Go sit down, Howard."

:o:o:o:o:o:o

Once they all returned the six of them sat around one of the round tables and Bridget couldn't believe how fast the food disappeared. She leaned over to situate Patrick and laughed when she realized that they'd managed to more or less end up in the same seats that they had been in for breakfast, and that left her once again next to Forrest.

He served everyone at the table again, and took a great deal of time on his own plate making sure that everything was just the way he wanted it. He seemed to be a man that liked organization, and if she wasn't so irritated with him she would have found that quality admirable.

For a man who was intent on leaving without a meal Howard was eating as if the one in front of him was going to be his last. Bridget smiled earnestly as he thanked her more than once for the delicious food through a mouthful of pork chop, and the graciousness of the words far outweighed her desire to scold him about talking with his mouth full.

"So Forrest," Jack piped up as his brother finally finished meticulously filling up his plate, "You still need me to run into town tomorrow and, uh, get that stuff?"

"Yeah," He answered. "I don't imagine it finding its own way here."

Katie laughed at the thinly veiled crack and Jack's cheeks glowed with a bit of embarrassment as he hung his head and dug into his potatoes.

Forrest continued to stare at him for another beat before adding, "Take the truck and be back here before nine."

Jack nodded, "Okay."

Bridget took a small mouthful of food and chewed thoughtfully before she realized that she'd wanted to go into town herself to get a few things, and this would be the perfect opportunity. She swallowed her bite and spoke up, "I'll to go with you. We need a few things in the kitchen and some more groceries."

"Alright then, just be back for nine." Forrest reiterated.

Conversation began to dwindle and Bridget noticed with a small bit of pride that this time he didn't bother to test her food, he just dove right in.

:o:o:o:o:o:o

The three of them were absolutely exhausted when they finally made their way upstairs to bed later that night. Patrick had barely made it from the tub back to the bedroom before he drifted off into a dead sleep, and even Katie was out the minute her head hit the pillow. When she was sure that the two of them were completely gone, Bridget got up and walked down the hallway towards the bathroom.

She wasn't intending to take a soak in the tub, but she really needed something after the events of the afternoon. Her body was wound up so tight that every joint and muscle ached. As the warm water poured out of the faucet she let her mind freely wander, and though she absolutely hated it, it wasn't longer than a moment before her thoughts were on _him. _Of course those musings weren't focused on their argument in his office this afternoon so much as the curve of his lush mouth and the solid muscle of his chest. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth fluttered low in her body and she swallowed hard, shaking her head to banish the images as she began to undress in the cold room. This was far more that she was accustomed to dealing with, Forrest completely unnerved her on every conceivable level, and it was something she had never experienced before.

Her life was planned and structured, with neat and tidy compartments where she kept her feelings controlled and organized. It had taken this man two days to literally tear it all apart. Never in her life had she flown off the handle like she had this afternoon, it was as if he managed to get under her skin without even trying. And while she had raged like some sort of animal, losing every scrap of poise and etiquette in front of everyone he didn't bat an eye.

And she hated it.

Bridget sighed as she washed her body slowly, scrubbing off the day's worth of stress and anxiety. There were so many questions she needed answers to, and she wasn't about to stop until she found them out. She wanted to know how a man who ran a small town filling station ended up with seventy cases of illegal liquor and a cut throat. But no matter how badly she wanted to know, the answer wasn't going to present itself tonight, so she decided to ignore it.

With that settled she rubbed her eyes and reached up to unpin her long hair, massaging her tired scalp with a sigh as the freed mass of curls tumbled down over the lip of the tub in a sweeping cascade. She tried to close her eyes to relax but soon found it to be absolutely pointless. There was no comfort to be had sitting naked in a strange house full of strange men. Her relaxing bath defeated, she wrung out the washcloth in her hand, laying it neatly over the side as she stood up and drained the tub. She gingerly stepped out onto the floor and reached for a towel, stopping instantly when she caught her own reflection in the mirror above the sink. Bridget's eyes closed of their own volition and she couldn't bring herself to feel anything but shame at what she saw.

The entire expanse of her back and shoulders was covered in faded scars that criss-crossed the pale flesh. Some were little more than a thin white line while others gouged deep, leaving raised, pink patches, and still more wound around her body to mar the sensitive skin of her stomach. It was testament to a life lived in service of her sisters, protecting them the only way she could from a man that they feared. Tears began to well up in her eyes and she quickly pulled her nightdress over her head wanting to cover them up and forget about everything.

That life was in the past. Something that she had left behind and would never, ever endure again.

Suddenly the loud noise of a car engine sputtering to life cut through the quiet night air and shattered her troubled thoughts. Bridget jumped over to the window, just in time to see the shadows of two men that she quickly realized were Forrest and Howard, climbing into the ramshackle old truck below and driving off.

She continued to stare out with a puzzled look long after the vehicle disappeared; she couldn't help but wonder just what type of business had them going out this long after sundown.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Can't stop the muse! **

**Just a note, I will be introducing a small bit of cannon in a mish-mash sort of way as far as Rakes is concerned, but I am leaning more towards the book version of a crooked local cop than the Chicago agent pictured in the movie. I was a history major and in 1931 had an FBI or high ranking Special Agent been killed, there would have been serious issues in Franklin County that Mr. J. Edgar Hoover would have been checking out...and that would have been no good.  
**

**That being said...enjoy!**

**Please read and REVIEW! I don't own any of this, just what came from the noggin...**

* * *

The cool, early morning air that blew through the windows of the truck smelled like spring. Bridget closed her eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the way the bloom of the trees and the plants dusted the air with such a sweet perfume. It was a relaxing start to a new day, and one that she steadfastly hoped would be better than the last one. And if the events at breakfast were any indication it certainly appeared to be shaping up that way.

:o:o:o:o:o:

The meal had been a peaceful one; everyone mostly kept to themselves and once again polished off every last morsel of food she'd prepared. Bridget was also happy to see that Howard carved out extra time in his morning schedule to join them and eat before grabbing Katie to head off towards the farm. Forrest had been very quiet, what she was quickly learning to be his normal state, giving her little more than a grunted "good morning" before serving everyone and burying his face in his food. On the table next to him the pile of ledgers and books that followed him everywhere remained within arm's reach.

But he completely took her by surprise when she was getting ready to leave for town with Patrick and Jack. He stood up from the table, reached into the pocket of his sweater and pulled out a wad of dollar bills, counting them carefully before handing her a twenty. Bridget was absolutely speechless as she stared down at the money in her hand, it was more than she'd had to her name in a very long time and it struck her in such a powerful way that she felt her eyes water in appreciation.

"That should get what you need, and if it ain't just tell them to bill it to my account." Forrest mumbled quietly.

She kept her face down and nodded, unable to look him in the eyes lest she wanted to end up crying in front of everyone like a child. He remained in front of her for another minute before turning around with a grumble, grabbing a fourth cup of coffee and walking back towards his office.

:o:o:o:o:o:

"Town's nice and real quiet this early in the morning." Jack spoke up, his voice hesitant.

Bridget turned her head to the young man who was nervously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and realized that she had never apologized to him for acting like a complete and utter bear the previous afternoon.

"I'll bet."

She smiled warmly and let out a sigh, "Look, Jack, I have to apologize for how I behaved towards you yesterday. It was awful, especially with the way that you have been nothing but nice to us since we showed up."

He shook his head and answered immediately, "Oh no Miss Bridget, you don't have to do that. I can't imagine goin' through what you and Katie have been through. Comin' up here and having your car break down and then not knowin' Forrest owned that land. I woulda yelled too after a while."

Bridget nodded and reached over Patrick's head to gently pat him on the shoulder. "Well, just the same," she reasoned, "I apologize and will try real hard not to do it again."

Jack laughed out loud, "Well if you're anything like Forrest and Howard it won't be long 'till I got you yellin' at me for somethin'!"

She smiled as she moved her hand back to her lap and fiddled with the hem of her worn, white cardigan. It wasn't Jack that she was worried about getting under her skin.

:o:o:o:o:o:o

Jack's assessment about the traffic in town was right on. There weren't more than a couple people milling about on Main Street, mostly concentrated around the hardware store and the feed store. They looked to be mostly farmers who were in town to get supplies and get back to the fields. He pulled the truck near the delivery entrance to the hardware store and turned off the engine.

"I gotta load up Forrest's order," he remarked as he opened the door. "Shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes, so you can go shopping and I'll come find you after I'm done."

"Alright," Bridget answered, stepping down and helping to get Patrick out. "I'll just be in the general store."

She held the little boy's hand as he eagerly began to pull her down the street, pointing to the buildings and the people he saw along the way. Bridget nodded and answered every one of his silent questions with an explanation as to what he was seeing, from the boarding house to the cars and even the water fountain. She smiled pleasantly to a few boarders who sat on the front porch staring at them, noting that the three, scruffy middle aged men seemed to be a little worse for wear for seven thirty in the morning. Not to mention if they were still hanging around looking as they were at this time of day, they most likely were unemployed.

"Mornin' ma'am," One of them spoke up in a slurred voice. "Ain't seen nothin' pretty as you in a long while."

"Good Morning, sir," Bridget answered keeping her eyes forward.

Inside her eyes rolled at the drunken leering, she was wearing a plain blue a-line dress that fell to her knees with a scoop neckline and a worn white sweater, on her feet was a pair of scuffed nude flats - she hadn't even bothered to put on stockings. Her curly brown hair was braided and pinned up on the top of her head and she wasn't wearing a stitch of makeup; if she was the prettiest thing they'd seen for a while the rot gut must have actually damaged their eyes.

"Why don't you come over and say hello, honey?" He continued, getting up off the porch and walking after her. "I know you. I seen you up at Blackwater yesterday behind the bar, you ain't from around here. I'd remember those legs and that ass."

"I am sorry," She answered in a short tone. "I don't have the time to talk. My employer expects me shortly and I have my _son_ with me."

She unconsciously squeezed Patrick's hand and pulled him closer to her body as she picked up her pace, keeping her eyes on the general store in the distance. Bridget could feel him drawing near and a cold wash of fear rolled through her at both his proximity and the fact that he knew where she was living. He'd seen her and recognized her, and she hadn't been able to do the same.

"So, Bondurant's keepin' you all to himself then?" He sneered with a lascivious smile, "I don't blame him. With a body like yours, I bet he's getting' somethin' real sweet."

Bridget leaned down and lifted Patrick up onto her hip so she could hold him close before turning around to face him. "I'd appreciate it if you watched your language and left me alone. Mr. Bondurant wouldn't be happy to know that I've been treated like this." Her voice hid a barely concealed tremble, "Now, good day."

"Meant no harm," he held up his hands in a mock apology. "I guess I'll just have to drop by the station and pay to see you. Forrest ain't never been one to pass up sellin' things to me."

Bridget didn't say anything in reply; she simply spun around on her heel and practically ran away, not slowing down until she was safely inside the store.

:o:o:o:o:o:o

Her hands were shaking when she finally put Patrick down on the ground. She tried to banish the man and his crude words from her thoughts, but she couldn't. He had basically called her a whore and worse yet implied that all it would take was money for Forrest to hand her over. Nausea gripped her as she openly wondered if he'd had girls at the station behind the bar that had done something like that. Suddenly the $20 bill in her pocket seemed like the filthiest thing in the world, and her mind raced at the realization that she had left Katie alone with those men.

Bridget closed her eyes and took a deep, shaking breath to regain control. Forrest wasn't like that, somehow she just knew it. Despite any involvement with trading liquor and what caused his scar, a man who sat down for dinner at a family table wouldn't do something like that.

She quickly banished the voice that reminded her that her father had sat down at a family table for years.

A light tug at her skirt pulled Bridget out of her turmoil as Patrick quickly directed her attention to the glass jars of penny candy at the register. It brought a weak smile to her face, "We'll see if we have enough money after we have bought our food."

The store had just about everything she was looking for, thanks to the farm she wasn't short on any meats, but there wasn't much in the way of sundry goods. They needed flour, potatoes and it wouldn't hurt to get a hold of some canned vegetables and preserves, it would still be a little while before she could even think about planting a garden. She gathered up the things she could into her arms and brought them up to the counter while mentally keeping track of the larger items that she would need in bulk.

The counter was empty and Bridget looked around for a moment before her eyes settled on a small basket of wild strawberries. Her mouth watered at the thought of strawberries, shortcake and fresh whipped cream. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd been able to enjoy a dessert like that. Even though the berries were early in the season and would still be a bit tart, she reasoned that a little warm jam drizzled over the top would sweeten it right up. That decided on she grabbed two little baskets and put them with her groceries.

Bridget stood in the quiet store for a moment longer when suddenly an elderly woman tottered up from the side room and caught her eye. She looked, for lack of a better comparison, like a bird. A thin face and a large, pointed nose stared out at her from oversized thick black glasses. Her grey hair was pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head and the wrinkled skin that hung off her skeletal frame looked like leather. It was no doubt the result of a life spent out tending the fields under the relentless summer sun. The woman wiped her hands on the front of her coarse white apron and fixed her beady brown eyes directly on her.

"You ain't from around here." She said in a low croaking voice. "What brings you to Franklin County?"

The deep tone coming from such a frail looking woman took her completely by surprise and it took her a moment to reply. "I'm in from Roanoke with my family," Bridget answered with a shy smile. "My name is Bridget Sullivan, and this here is my nephew Patrick O'Connell."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Mary Lou Burkett – and call me Mary Lou. This here is mine and my husband Ellis' store, only place around here you need to be going for groceries." She said a succinctly.

"Well I certainly found everything I needed very quickly, Mary Lou, so I can't imagine needing to go anywhere else." Bridget said with a nod, trying appeal to the woman's good side.

"Your husband a farmer?"

Bridget tilted her head in surprise at the woman's bold question. "I'm not married." She answered quietly.

"Widowed then?"

Her mouth opened and closed in a gape of shock, "Um, no. I took care of my sisters after my momma died, and now my nephew after my sister passed, so I never got married." She stopped rambling when she realized that she was laying out her pathetic relationship history in front of a strange old woman.

Mary Lou's eyes squinted as she looked her over slowly from head to toe with an observant eye. "Well that's a shame; you look like good stock to have children. It's not too late neither, you are still young, but there ain't many men to be found around here, sorry to say. At least none you want to let get on top of you."

Bridget could feel her cheeks redden under the woman's scrutiny and her brash words. "I'll keep that in mind ma'am."

Mary Lou looked down at her pile of groceries and began to write out her receipts and Bridget realized she was forgetting the most important items she was looking for.

"I also need 24lbs of flour and the same in corn meal and potatoes."

"Land sakes woman, how much does the damn boy eat?"

A genuine laugh came from her mouth as Bridget looked at little Patrick. "Oh my, it's not all for him. I found work cooking and cleaning at a station up the road. I have a table of six for meals."

She adjusted her glasses as they slipped down her thin nose and stared at her again, her small brown eyes focusing sharply, "You up at Blackwater with the Bondurants?"

The questioning tone of her voice took Bridget by surprise and then she realized that she'd just confessed to being an unmarried woman who associated with a group of unmarried men. There was no way to avoid being the center of town gossip now, and as her face began to glow with embarrassment she literally prayed that somehow she could slip between one of the cracks in the floor and disappear.

"Yes," She stammered nervously. "Forr…Mr. Bondurant was kind enough to let me work there while I get on my feet."

"Forrest?" Mary Lou replied, her tone quiet as if she was talking to herself as much as she was to Bridget, "Nice, sweet boy, that one. Good family too, shame what the Spanish Lady did to 'em. Glad that good for nothin' son of a bitch Rakes got what was comin' to him."

Bridget cocked her head to the side as the woman spoke, listening as she rambled on about a crooked cop hired by the Commonwealth's Attorney that had apparently been giving several of the local residents, Forrest included, some serious trouble. But according to Mary Lou Burkett, he hadn't been seen around Franklin County for quite some time after a shootout at the river the previous year.

"There was a _shootout_!" She gasped in shock.

"Yep, Forrest and his brothers were there with a bunch 'a men; they all got shot up a few times too. But that ain't a big deal considerin' the legend and all."

"There's a legend?"

"Way the locals tell it, them Bondurant boys can't die. And judgin' from what I've seen in my years of knowin' them, it don't seem far from the truth."

By now Bridget's jaw was hanging wide open and she was in absolute shock. What in the hell had happened in the last five minutes? Forrest Bondurant had gone from a gas station and restaurant owner to a man involved –and shot- in an altercation with the police… and one that possessed a family _legend _no less!

She was about to ask another question when Jack suddenly bounded into the store with a big grin on his face.

"All done with the order Miss Bridget, you ready to go?"

He reached into one of the candy jars grabbing a few peppermint disks and popping one in his mouth, before tossing a few pennies on the counter and staring down at Patrick.

"You want one little man?"

Patrick's blue eyes widened with excitement and he turned to look up at Bridget with a huge smile on his face. It was impossible to say no to something that damn cute. She nodded and he beamed back at Jack as he stuck out a thin little hand to take the candy.

"Thank you, Jack." Bridget said.

"No problem for this guy!" He beamed, as he scuffed up the little blonde boy's hair with his hand. Jack's attention snapped back up to the old lady behind the counter a second later.

"How are you Mrs. Burkett? Nice day out there."

"It is. You gonna to help this fine lady carry her groceries out like a gentleman, or am I gonna tan your hide?"

"Yes, ma'am. Of course."

Mary Lou nodded and pointed to the side room, "Flour, potatoes and corn meal's back there. Go on ahead and grab it."

She finished tallying up everything and looked back up at Bridget with a curt nod, "That'll be $7.50 for the lot."

For the first time in her life Bridget smiled easily as she pulled the $20 bill out of her pocket and handed it over. It was an odd feeling of liberation to see the old woman open the cash drawer with a loud "ding" and make change for her. She carefully took back the twelve dollars and fifty cents and tucked it into the pocket of her cardigan along with a receipt for all that she purchased, wanting to have something accurate to show Forrest for his books.

She reckoned it would be something that he would precisely document.

"Thank you very much," Bridget said with a smile as she grabbed a couple of bags to take to the truck. "It was nice meeting and talking with you."

"Yep, I'll see you again." Mary Lou answered matter-of-factly. "Give my regards to Forrest."

"I will."

The old woman adjusted her glasses and took one last scrutinizing look at Bridget's figure before adding dryly, "Now if you want my opinion, Miss Sullivan, _that's_ a man you should go ahead and get underneath. You'd make some healthy children together, and I imagine you'd find plenty to enjoy."

Bridget's face was on fire as she listened to the woman's suggestion. She couldn't even reply verbally and hoped like hell that Jack hadn't overheard anything. She settled for an uncomfortable smile and called out for Patrick as she raced out of the store to the truck.

Lord-in-heaven, between the old woman's remarks and the drunk's lewd taunts earlier; she wasn't sure what had unnerved her more.

o:o:o:o:o:o:

The ride back to the station was a quiet one, Patrick happily savored another two peppermint candies and both Bridget and Jack were preoccupied with the scenery.

"Before I forget, Miss Bridget," Jack spoke up out of nowhere, "Forrest and Howard went to pick up your car last night, got it towed back to the station and everything."

Bridget frowned immediately at the mention of the damaged vehicle. She'd all but forgotten about it in the past day and the realization that there was going to be no way it was going to get fixed further soured her mood.

"Thanks, Jack." She sighed with a deep breath, "Now to hire a mechanic and fix an axle with no money-that should be interesting."

"No need to do that," He answered. "I can do it for you easy enough. I'm sure I have the parts hangin' around, I just need the time."

Bridget chewed her lip and looked down at her lap, she really didn't want to have _another_ hand out hanging over her head, but there really wasn't a whole hell of a lot of options for her. Suddenly an idea for an interesting bartering opportunity popped into her mind. She looked up at Jack, "How about you and I come to a little 'arrangement'."

A pair of very interested hazel eyes looked back at her as a grin slowly spread across the young man's face, "You sound like Forrest now, but you got me interested. What's the offer?"

"Well," she began formally, "I imagine you aren't particularly happy cooking and waiting on customers all day. I'd be willing to take that on for you _if_ you fixed my car."

"Shit yeah!" Jack yelled with a smile, wincing instantly at his language. "I mean, yes ma'am I'd definitely agree to that. It ain't gonna be too much for you to do?"

Bridget rolled her eyes with a huff, "Come now Jack, I am a thirty year old single, dirt poor Irish woman; if I can't work hard I am in a bad spot."

"Alright then, it's a deal." He blindly reached his hand across the seat and shook hers in an agreement.

o:o:o:o:o:o:

As promised they pulled back into the driveway of the station a little before nine in the morning.

Bridget opened her door and let out Patrick before looking up at the porch to notice a few customers already milling about. Her heart quickened for a moment in fear at the thought that the men from town might already be here, but she quickly dismissed that worry with a shake of the head. They were nothing but pathetic drunken slobs, and couldn't do anything to hurt her in broad daylight. That settled in her mind she took a deep breath and walked to the back of the truck to grab a bag of her groceries. She waited patiently as Jack lifted the canvas cover off of the groceries and hoisted the heavy sack of potatoes over his shoulder.

"Now don't go liftin' the flour or the corn meal, Miss Bridget, I'll be right back for that."

She nodded as she reached under the cover trying to grab one of the smaller bags, but the entire load of supplies had shifted on the drive and her finger tips barely grazed it. Bridget sighed and stood up on her tip toes, reaching further, finally tossing off the canvas top more to get a better look at its location. Her eyes widened in shock when she got a good look at Forrest's "order." It was nine or ten crates of empty Ball brand mason jars and at least a hundred pounds of sugar. Bridget's hands curled into fists as her face turned bright red and her temper surged. Forrest had one hundred pounds of sugar in the middle of the goddamn depression when the rest of the country was rationing it.

Suddenly it all fell into place- the money, the books, the trouble with the police, the shootout, the scar and the seventy cases of whiskey he'd had to trade to her grandfather.

He was a _fucking_ bootlegger-that son of a bitch.

Bridget ripped an empty jar from one of the crates and turned to Patrick speaking through her clenched jaw. "I want you to wait right here until Jack comes back, you hear me?" The little boy nodded with wide eyes as she spun around on her heel and stormed off towards the front door of the busy station.

* * *

**Uh oh...**

**(P.S. Totally had that same conversation with my 90 year old grandmother...gotta love the filter loss with age : ) )**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Not even horrific allergies can stop the muse...she is awful pushy!**

**Thank you to all that have responded to this story, please continue to review...means a lot.**

**Still own nothing...**

* * *

Bridget saw red as she stormed up the stairs, her hand gripping the empty glass jar with such intense pressure her knuckles ached. She burst into the door and found Forrest sitting alone at one of the corner tables, his hat resting on the table beside him as he poured over one of his books, his grey eyes focused intently as he alternated between counting a stack of money and taking notes in pencil. His stare snapped up to meet her furious face as she crossed the room and hurled the mason jar to the floor, watching as it shattered into pieces with a loud crash.

"You goddamn son of a bitch!" She raged, "Who the _fuck_ do you think you are!"

A hush fell over the room as the normally rowdy patrons stopped their conversations to stare at the enraged woman and the fireworks that were no doubt about to erupt. Forrest didn't reply, he merely sat up straight and leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed slightly at her coarse language.

Bridget took a deep breath through her nose as her nostrils flared with indignation; she pointed towards the door and yelled again. "You want to explain to me what you need a hundred pounds of sugar and all those jars for? 'Cause it sure as shit looks to me like you are bootlegging! Is that how you make all your goddamn money? Is it!?" She was screaming at the top of her lungs by the end of her rant, not caring in the least who heard her, "Answer me you bastard! Tell me I didn't put my family under the same roof as a filthy criminal!"

Forrest stood up from his seat, the chair groaning loudly as it moved against the wooden floor, before taking two big steps around the table and getting in her face. Bridget shrank back and her eyes widened in shock at the fury that was all over his face, his eyes were cold and his jaw was clenched tight. She gasped as she felt a large hand settle around her waist and firmly pull her against the solid wall of his chest before he used his considerable mass to propel her towards the back of the station and his office. She couldn't do anything at all to stop the momentum that he pushed her with, and she began to panic as he threw his books on his desk and slammed the door behind them. They were all alone; there was no one to protect her from whatever she had provoked in him. Bridget was shaking like a leaf as he backed her against the wall, tears filled her eyes and when he spoke in a quiet, raspy growl she could barely suppress the sob of fear that threatened to spill out of her mouth.

"You need to shut your damn mouth right now woman, 'cause if you don't I have no problem doin' it for you."

Bridget froze at his threat, but somehow through the terror that gripped her anger managed to override it enough for her to speak. "You haven't answered me, Forrest."

He grumbled and narrowed his hard stare, bringing his face so close that his nose actually touched hers. She tried to pull her head away, but the barrier of the wall held her in place – she was trapped. His full lips were a hair's breadth from hers when he spoke again. "Yeah, that's how I make my money."

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat; he was too close to her. Bridget's entire body screamed with an odd mixture of dread and anticipation as her heart pounded against her rib cage, all she could see, feel and smell was _him_.

"Here it is- whiskey keeps a roof over my brother's head, clothes on his back and food in his stomach. I ain't ashamed and I ain't a goddamn criminal, I'm a survivor. I do what I have to, have since I was 17."

Bridget stared at him as his words registered slowly in her mind. She knew from the moment she'd first seen him that he was the head of his small family, it somehow never dawned on her that his burden for taking care of and providing for Jack was very similar to one that she'd been dealing with herself. The only difference between the two of them was that Forrest was willing to do anything for his family and she could barely manage to keep hers together.

"Now, as long as you are underneath my roof, you will not talk about my business again." His voice was firm but oddly gentle, as if he was reprimanding her and delivering a lesson.

"I underst –" Bridget tried to whisper.

"I hope you do." Forrest continued interrupting her, "Because if you don't, I will find no problem with personally putting you out on your fucking ass, _ma'am_."

She gasped at his calm warning and the vulgar way he delivered it. His grey eyes bored into hers and she could do nothing but mutely nod her head, wanting nothing more than for him to get away from her. She was trying to control the way that her mind was literally spinning out of control at the unnerving proximity of his face. She wanted to cry, scream and god forbid, the thought _actually_ crossed her mind that it would take nothing at all to tilt her face a half an inch and touch his mouth with hers. It was all too much to bear.

Bridget's eyes slid shut as she finally felt the tears prick at the corner of her eyes and she said the words that had become a reflex after years of dealing with fear and intimidation. "I'm sorry."

Forrest must have sensed that her anxiety was at a red-line because he took a step away and let her have some air. Bridget brought a trembling hand up to cover her mouth and she tried to breathe in deep and slow to calm herself, willing the tears away. She wouldn't break down in front of him like some sort of weak creature.

"I just want them to be safe, Forrest." She confessed in a soft voice. "I heard about the trouble you had with that policeman when I was in town…and then I saw what you'd bought. I can't let my family be involved in all that. I just can't, they are all I have left."

His hands settled into his pockets and his face seemed to soften as he chewed on his lip thoughtfully before answering her. "Now, listen here Bridget. I wouldn't let anything come to hurt you, Katie or that little boy. As long as you are under my roof and on my land that makes you my concern, alright?"

She nodded slowly and held up her head, the calm and strength coming back into her voice. "I have your word on that?"

"Yeah, you do."

Bridget looked at him, completely surprised when she realized that he'd extended his hand out towards her. She reached out tentatively and took it, marveling at the way that once again he touched her with an unparalleled gentleness, the rough skin of his palm caressing hers like he was worried about breaking it. A shiver that wasn't completely unpleasant danced across her skin as she remembered the way that same hand had slid around her waist to pull her in here. At the time it had gone completely unnoticed, but now she couldn't _stop_ thinking about the way he'd been able to take complete control of her with the slightest pressure.

"Thank you."

He grunted softly at her words and pulled his hand back, inclining his head towards the door. "Now come on, and start the day."

:o:o:o:o:o:o:o

After their disagreement he had let her out of the office and followed her back into the restaurant, putting his things on the edge of the table and grabbing a broom and dust pan from the closet to pick up the broken glass on the floor. Bridget immediately dropped to her knees and began to pick it up, ashamed of the mess she'd made. Forrest wouldn't have any of it. He stopped sweeping and crouched down next to her, gently taking one of her wrists in his hand to get her attention. "I got this, don't need your help. Go on, now."

She stared, unable to speak, as she really _looked_ at him. Noticing, like she had the first night she'd met him, he was quite possibly the most handsome man that she'd ever seen. His gray eyes were softer now, any trace of the anger he'd felt at her screaming insults were long gone, and he observed her with an almost patient gaze. Feeling odd warmth begin to flush across her body, Bridget's eyes flickered from his for just a moment to land on his mouth. It was a mistake. The minute she did, the sight of that plump, full skin had her unconsciously biting at her own lip and all she could think about how close they had been only minutes ago. Her face began to burn as Mary Lou Burkett's croaking voice echoed loudly in her ears, reminding her of the old woman's opinion that Forrest was a man she should be on the floor with in a much more pleasing scenario.

Thankfully Jack chose that moment to run into the room and heft the heavy bag of flower onto the counter. His eyes darted down to the two of them crouched on the floor and the broken glass all around them. "Hey Forrest, Miss Bridget, what's goin' on...you all okay?"

"Fine, Jack." Bridget's answer came out in a whoosh of breath as she stood up, grateful for the interruption. Her hands nervously played with a curl of hair that had fallen out of her bun, tucking it behind her ear and smiling at the young man. "You carried it all in yet?"

"Yeah, sure did." He nodded emphatically, "I guess I'll go check out your car now, see what it's gonna need repaired."

"Now, how you propose to do that from behind the counter, Jack?" Forrest grumbled as he stood up slowly.

Jack's hand came up to scratch at the back of his head as he stared down at his boots. "Uh, well, see, Miss Bridget wanted me to work on her car, 'cause she can't afford a mechanic, and she offered to watch the customers while I did it. I didn't think you'd mind, Forrest, 'cause you know I can't cook for shit and she's real good at it. So they'll like her more than me anyhow."

Forrest looked at his younger brother for a minute and then directed his attention back to her; she tried to get control of the fluttering nerves that still danced in her stomach. "That gonna work, Bridget? You don't have to do his job; Jack'll fix your car either way. I don't want you workin' yourself to the bone to make his life easier."

Bridget laughed quietly at his concern, but she still couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. "It'll be fine Forrest; I've been a waitress and a housekeeper before. All I ask is that someone keeps an eye out for Patrick while I'm workin'."

"That's no problem, Miss Bridget. I can watch him. I promise he'll have a good time." Jack said earnestly, his hazel eyes darting from hers to his brother's.

"Alright then," Forrest answered crouching back down to the floor to finish cleaning up the jar. "You know your way around the kitchen. If a customer asks - second shelf to the left of the stove, two dollars a jar, three for applejack and you make the call on the sale. Any problems you holler out for me."

Bridget nodded softly as she realized what he was talking about. She was going to serve illegal liquor behind a bar and sleep under the same roof as a bootlegger she couldn't even bring herself to look at without getting light-headed…dear lord, what _had_ her life come to?

:o:o:o:o:o:o:o

Despite her initial unease with the situation, Bridget was pleasantly surprised to discover that a great majority of the people that came into the station weren't vagrant drunks as much as they were just hardworking farmers and lumberjacks looking for a good, hot meal. By lunch time it seemed that her coffee and potato hash was more of a hit than any jar of moonshine. She giggled to herself at the realization that poor Jack's food really had to be awful. A shout from the back of the room drew her attention to a shabby looking old man with a long beard, his coffee cup was raised into the air and she nodded back at him with a polite answer.

"I'll be right over."

She wiped her hands on the small, white apron tied around her waist and grabbed the pot, crossing the busy floor to the man and filling his cup. "Can I get you anything else to eat, sir?"

The old man stared up at her from underneath a mess of snow-white hair with a squinted pair of dark brown eyes. He was filthy, but somehow all Bridget could notice was the way he smiled warmly at her. "I'm just fine. But I'll be tellin' Forrest that it's about time he got a real lady in here to cook."

"Well, thank you." She answered with a playful wink, "I don't mind cookin' so long as I got nice folks like you to eat it, and I am sure that Mr. Bondurant did just fine before I came along."

He took a long sip of coffee, and swallowed, "He sure as hell didn't, little lady. Coffee yesterday could'a killed a damn cow and I'm still tryin' to wash the burnt taste out my mouth. Now, enough of that nonsense, you new to Franklin County?"

Bridget leaned against the table, making sure to keep an eye on the room, before she prepared herself to meet yet another colorful resident and tell her pathetic little tale. "I am, name's Bridget Sullivan, came here with my sister and nephew to my grandfather's homestead up on Cooper's Mountain."

"Nice to meet you Miss. I'm Walter Nash, been 'round these parts for 80 years, who's land?"

"Eamon MacManus," Bridget answered quietly. "Forrest owns it now, the land anyhow. I'm gonna live in the house."

"MacManus was your grandfather!" He dropped his cup to the table loudly, and Bridget was concerned that a man she never met was now about to cause her a world of trouble. But when a wide smile stretched across his wrinkled face, she couldn't help but return it.

"Did you know him?"

Walter laughed and shook his head, taking another sip of coffee. "'Course I knew 'em. Made the best damn apple brandy in the county! Everyone 'round here knew Eamon."

Of course her grandfather was a bootlegger, Bridget bit down on the flesh of her cheek as she faked a smile. What else could she honestly expect from a man that sold his land for hooch, that he'd be a priest?

"I never knew him." She answered quietly. "My momma left Franklin County for Roanoke when she was a young lady, after her momma fell ill and died of measles. She got work in the home of a wealthy railroad company man lookin' after his children. Then she met my father, never came back I guess."

He seemed to sense that she was sad at the thoughts of her family and he nodded at her words. "Well, Miss Sullivan, Eamon was always a quiet man, never talked 'bout much. But he talked 'bout his daughter Molly plenty, he always loved her."

"How did he pass?" Bridget asked quietly as she filled up his cup again.

"Got sick, people round here thought it was the Lady Flu, no one would go near him. 'Cept Forrest." The old man sipped his coffee slowly staring down at the table. "That boy took care o' him till the day he died, paid for his burial too."

Bridget covered her mouth as a shine of tears filled her eyes. It all made sense now, Forrest must have bought his land to make sure that he didn't have to worry about anyone taking it when he was sick. How could she have treated him so poorly? She tried to cough to stop them from falling but it was no use. Thankfully Walter was a gentleman and produced a handkerchief without any ceremony, he handed it to her and after she dabbed her eyes her took her hand gently.

"That's a good man, right there. One that Eamon would have approved of for his Molly's daughter."

She smiled weakly. "It's not like that between us, Walter. He's my employer."

The old man coughed and started a loud bark of a laugh, which caught the attention of several other tables, before he sat back in his chair and looked up at her. "Miss Sullivan, if it's come a time in this country where a lady like you and a man like Forrest don't see anything in each other than a business arrangement than it really is a goddamn depression."

Bridget shook her head at his boldness, it was a shame that Mary Lou Burkett was married; they would have made a lovely couple. "Well it's been very nice to meet you and talk to you, Walter. But I gotta get back to the counter now."

"Alright then," He nodded into his cup, "Go an' make sure Forrest has a fresh cup of coffee, now."

She rolled her eyes and turned away from the old man, her eyes falling over to Forrest instantly. He was still hunched over his books taking notes and counting money, the same as he had been doing since she saw him at five o'clock this morning. A quick look at the clock behind the counter let her know that it was already after noon- past lunch time. Bridget walked slowly over to his table, her hands becoming sweaty and her stomach starting an uncomfortable flutter as she drew closer. She shook the foolishness out of her mind as she stopped beside him, instinctively filling his empty cup before tentatively speaking, "I haven't made lunch yet, are you hungry?"

Forrest grunted lowly, not looking up from his work. "Yeah, I suppose I could eat."

She stood for a moment longer, wanting to keep talking to him but completely tongue tied. Bridget clenched her fists tightly at her absolute stupidity, this morning she had been dead set on removing this man's head from his shoulders and now she couldn't even speak to him! She took a deep breath and started again, "Is there anything you don't care for?"

"Don't like egg salad."

She scrunched her nose at his blunt reply, "So you don't like eggs? You eat them just fine at breakfast."

"No, I don't like _cold_ eggs. Like them hot just fine."

Bridget nodded, "Alright, how about ham salad, then."

"That's fine," Forrest answered, "long as there ain't eggs in it… and go light on the mayonnaise… and no sweet relish neither."

"Sure, I can manage that." She answered as she turned and made her way back to the counter, trying her best not to laugh out loud at his specificity. She _had_ asked after all.

:o:o:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget quickly put together a ham salad, taking extra care to make sure that it was the appropriate consistency and completely devoid of both eggs _and_ sweet relish before neatly placing it on a plate and taking it over to where he was sitting. She gently placed it down beside him with a warm smile. "Why don't you take a break from work and have something to eat, now."

He looked up at her and then down at the plate, reaching out to pull it towards him and going back to the ledger with a grunt. "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

She sighed as she turned back towards the counter; just as a grease-covered Jack came walking in through the door with an equally filthy Patrick in tow. Bridget's mouth fell open as she stared at the little blonde boy; there wasn't an inch of skin on his face that wasn't smudged with black. "What have you done to my nephew Jack Bondurant?!" Bridget scolded as she grabbed a wet rag and began to clean him off.

"Aww come on, Miss Bridget he's been helpin' me."

Patrick smiled at him and nodded emphatically, and she could do nothing but smile back as she wiped him off and sat him on one of the high stools. "Well that's good. I'm going to feed him lunch now. Why don't you let me make up a couple of sandwiches and you can take them down to Katie and Howard."

"Sounds good, just, uh, let me wash up a bit first. I don't think Katie wants someone all dirty touching her food."

Bridget turned around and set about working on the sandwiches, her sharp eyes floating up to the mirror above the stove to see Jack finish washing his hands before taking the time to stare at his reflection in the metallic surface of the sink. His hands ran over his hair, smoothing it down and adjusting his collar before grabbing the paper bag she neatly presented in front of him. "Tell them dinner will be on the table at five thirty."

"Sure will."

He spun around and practically bolted out of the door; she raised an eyebrow in interest at his behavior and looked back at Patrick who was happily munching away on his sandwich. "I think that boy and I are going to be due for a little talk soon." She spoke to no one in particular, her eyes darting up just in time to see three scruffy men stumble into the door and take a seat at one of the far tables.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Your first update of the week! Enjoy!**

* * *

Katie stood up with a groan as she dumped a heavy pail of water into the trough and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm. The early spring sun wasn't particularly hot, but without a cloud in the sky and thanks to the constant exertion she'd been doing for the past five hours it felt as humid as the middle of August in the barn. Her stomach grumbled loudly and she moaned at the thought of getting a break for lunch, she was absolutely starving.

Howard's loud voice echoed through the air in response to her constant noisiness. "Damn, little lady, I swear with that stomach of yours I don't know how you ain't as wide as you are tall."

"I don't know, probably 'cause you work me like a jackass!" She shouted back playfully, before flopping down on a bale of hay at the open door of the barn and leaning back against the wall, "I am hungry though; you think its past lunch?"

When he didn't reply Katie closed her eyes for a moment taking a deep breath, enjoying the cool fresh air and basking in the sun. A moment later she heard a rustling in the grass and she cracked open an eye to see Jack running towards her with a huge smile on his face- and a paper bag in his hand.

"Hey Katie, you want lunch?"

She sat up instantly, clapping her hands in excitement. "Yes! Oh my goodness, I can't tell you how happy I am to see you right now."

Jack shook his head with a laugh and gestured over his shoulder to the shade of a huge oak tree, "Come on, let's go sit down."

Katie stood up and stuck her head in the barn, calling out to Howard to see if he wanted anything to eat while she quickly scrubbed her hands with soap in one of the pails of water. When the only answer she got from the older brother was the tell-tale sound of liquid sloshing back and forth in a glass jar, she figured that it was a lost cause. She walked out of the barn and joined Jack on a patch of soft green grass and smiled as he handed the bag over.

"What do we have here?" She mused taking a deep breath as she reached her hand in and pulled out the three wrapped sandwiches, handing one to Jack before taking one and putting the last away, determined to make Howard eat it later.

"Ooooh, ham salad!" Katie sighed as she unwrapped it and took a huge bite. "Bridget makes the _best_ ham salad in the whole world."

Jack laughed as he watched her big blue eyes light up with complete joy at something as simple as a sandwich. "I'll bet. She's the best cook I've ever met, next to my momma of course."

"That's sweet of you to say, Jack." Katie said playing with the end of her long braid as her eyes drifted off to take in the scenery all around them. It was an absolutely perfect afternoon and she really didn't want to spend the rest of it working in a smelly cow barn.

"Penny for your thoughts," Jack asked quietly around a mouthful of food.

Katie shrugged her shoulders, "It is such a nice day, and I just wish I could enjoy it instead of havin' to work. It's been a while since I had any fun."

"You should let me take you for a drive around sometime, it'd be fun. I got a fast car." He suggested with a sly grin.

Katie's eyebrow quirked up at his comment, "Are you an insane person?"

He shook his head, "No! Why do you say that?" His grin persisted as he leaned in to catch her attention, "What, you afraid of fast cars or somethin'?"

"I certainly am _not_ afraid of fast cars, Jack Bondurant." She scoffed at his accusation and leaned right back into him, "What I_ am_ afraid of is what bodily harm my sister will do to you if she even _thinks_ you're trying to court me."

Jack suddenly went very quiet at her comment and began absently picking at the grass as his feet as a tell tale red began to tinge his ears. Katie bit her lip as her stomach did a tiny flip-flop at the sight; her heart raced in a funny patter and somehow gave her the silliness to goad him further in a quiet voice.

"That _is_ what you are trying to do, right? Court me, I mean?"

His hazel eyes blinked up at her as his smile widened, a boyish dimple forming at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I reckon so."

She couldn't stop the blush that covered her pale skin at his admission, not to mention the realization that she was actually excited about the prospect. Katie knew she was a cute girl, she wasn't foolish, but she'd never had anyone as handsome or sweet as Jack pay her any mind before. He might not have been as tall as Howard or as muscular as Forrest, but she was quite sure that he'd grow into just as much of a man in ten years time- after all her figure looked nothing like Bridget's or even Mary's had.

"Well then, you best be careful 'cause Bridget will skin you alive." Katie couldn't keep the giggles from her voice, despite the truth to her warning.

"It's a good thing I'm supposed to be invincible then," Jack replied sitting up straight and squaring off his shoulders.

The disbelieving look of her face prodded him to continue. "You ain't heard the legend round these parts about us Bondurant boys?"

"No."

"We can't die."

Katie's blue eyes shot open as she playfully swatted her hand against his foot. "Stop tryin' to pull my leg! It ain't gonna make me any taller. That's not true and you know it, the Lord Almighty doesn't make anyone like that."

"It's true!" Jack insisted, dodging another of her slaps. "Howard was in the Great War, an' his whole platoon drown- every last one of them. He floated for three days in the ocean before someone fished him out. And Forrest, he had the Spanish Lady Flu, same as the one that killed almost all of Franklin County, he was sick for weeks before he got better. He's also got his throat cut from ear to ear and been shot about four or five times! He just goes to the hospital like it's nothin' every time."

Her mouth was wide open with shock and Katie tried to speak a few times before Jack continued. "I got shot too, last year."

"Where?" Katie gasped, covering her mouth.

He rocked up onto his knees and pulled his shirt and undershirt free of his pants and lifted it up from his waist, "Right there. Went right through me and didn't hit nothin' important, doctor said it was 'cause I'm thin. I think it's 'cause of the legend."

She leaned in to the pale skin he exposed and noticed a relatively pink patch of new scar tissue in a jagged line about three inches wide just above the top of his pants. Her hand reached out to touch the wound almost reflexively, not realizing what she'd done until her dainty fingers rested on the warm skin and he jumped back at the unexpected contact.

"I'm so sorry!" She said as her face glowed red with embarrassment, "That was so impolite of me. Not to mention completely improper."

"No, it's fine," Jack amended quickly as he sat back down, covering his stomach. Her only consolation to the absolute mortification that she was feeling was that his face seemed to be just as red. "Just real ticklish is all."

"Oh." Katie said as she smiled shyly at her feet. "So if you can't die, isn't that gonna be lonely when you get old? I mean where you gonna find a lady to live that long?"

"Never thought of that," He mumbled quietly.

"Seems an important thing to think about," She countered.

"Maybe we could talk about it on that drive I take you on soon?"

Katie was just about to reply when Howard's disheveled form stalked out of the barn door and walked over to the young couple on the grass. "Damn it, Jack, ain't you got something to do aside from sittin' on your goddamn ass in the sunshine like a pretty little peach?"

"Aww fuck you, Howard. I've been workin' on her sister's car all mornin'. Just came down here to bring _your_ miserable ass some lunch."

"And you mistook me for a cute lil' blonde girl?" Howard needled him as he tossed back the jar in his hand, finishing the last mouthful. "I think I gotta have Forrest take you to the doctor to get your eyes checked boy, this sounds serious."

Jack snatched the paper bag off the ground and tossed hard it at his older brother. "Why don't you try puttin' somethin' other than whiskey in your gut?" He took one look at the flash of rage that crossed Howard's face and scrambled to his feet, tearing back off towards the house, turning his head for just a quick second to yell back.

"Miss Bridget says supper is at five thirty! I'll see ya then, Katie!"

Katie kept her head down, knowing that her face was still as red as a tomato and hoping to hell that Howard wouldn't notice. She was wrong.

"Gonna have to keep watch on that sun, little lady." He mumbled as he tore open his food and stuffed in a huge bite, "It's got your face all _sorts_ of colors and you don't want to get burned, now."

"I'll keep that in mind. Well, gonna get back to work." She answered in a quick breath as she stood up and practically raced back into the safety of the humid barn, not willing to turn around and see the shit-eating grin that he no doubt had plastered all over his scruffy face.

:o:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget stood at the bar and leaned on her hands as she stared into the corner of the room unable to wipe the smile off of her face. What she wouldn't have given for a Kodak Brownie and a roll of film.

After she'd sent Jack out with lunch, she'd finished cleaning up Patrick and set him in the corner of the room so she could start with supper preparations and mind the few afternoon customers that were left in the station. It was a simple task; the little boy never really needed much in the way of elaborate things to amuse himself. More times than not, he would sit and play with the numerous rocks he had in his pockets or occupy himself on some other menial undertaking. But when she turned around after walking away, she was surprised to see him pick up his stones and walk over to the same table Forrest was at.

Bridget almost went back to stop him, not wanting Patrick to be a disturbance, and she paused for a moment to watch as he ducked under the table and scooted up onto one of the chairs before placing his things on the table quietly. When Forrest didn't seem particularly put off with him sitting there- in fact he barely lifted his head up from his books- she decided that it would be alright to leave him.

She was pouring a cup of coffee for a customer when she first noticed it.

Patrick had made little piles of his stones and was tirelessly counting them with one hand, while the other held an imaginary pencil. His mannerisms and movements were perfectly mirroring the man that he was sitting next to. She couldn't stop the clench of her heart at the sight; it had to be the cutest damn thing she had witnessed in her life.

Even Forrest wasn't immune; she caught him looking on for a split second with an amused gleam in his grey eyes and a half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

:o:o:o:o:o:o

Supper was an enjoyable occasion and _all_ were present and clean for the five thirty deadline. Bridget served a meatloaf, mashed potatoes and brown gravy, pared with some boiled carrots sprinkled with just enough cinnamon and butter to make them palatable for those less inclined to like vegetables and a heaping basket of fresh biscuits.

Once again there was nothing left after the brothers had eaten their fill, and with bellies that full she certainly wasn't expecting the chorus of yells that rang through the room when she presented the simple strawberry pie covered with a mountain of thick whipped cream that she'd managed to throw together between customers. But somehow dessert seemed to go over better than the main course.

And Bridget's sharp eyes were quick to notice that while Forrest seemed to be picky about the food he ate, that same fussiness did not seem to extend to pie… judging by the amount in his plate, apparently he had a bit of a sweet-tooth.

It was good to know.

:o:o:o:o:o:o

"We openin' back up tonight?" Howard suddenly asked, leaning back in his chair with a loud stretch.

Forrest shook his head and stood up from the table. "Nope, she's been workin' all damn day, ain't any reason to keep goin' for a few more dollars. Someone comes by and wants somethin' that's fine, but they can move on after they buy it."

Bridget overheard the conversation from the sink where she was elbows deep in suds, handing off dishes while Katie dried and put them away.

"You sure, Forrest?" She asked over her shoulder, "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, we'll have plenty of late nights come summer, don't need one tonight." He grumbled his answer as he reached into his pocket and took out a cigar and a book of matches, his eyes wandering to everything but her face. "Besides, it's a nice night to sit out."

"Alright, then." Bridget said with a small smile. "We'll be out shortly."

:o:o:o:o:o:o

It _was_ a nice night to sit out.

Bridget leaned her head back against the wall as she stretched out her legs in front of her, sighing as her knees and ankles popped loudly. She didn't realize just how much her feet hurt until she sit down, it was definitely going to take a few days to get used to spending so many hours up and walking around. But it was nothing she hadn't done before, and nothing a few aspirin wouldn't be able to handle. She almost laughed out loud at the thought that a shot of brandy would be awful helpful as well. It's not like it would be difficult to ask for. At that her eyes darted unconsciously over to Forrest, who was leaning back on the bench next to her puffing contently on a cigar. It sent a wisp of sweet smoke in her direction every now and then as they watched the other three battling at a game of rummy.

Katie sat cross legged at her feet, while Jack sat to her left on the edge of porch and Howard sat across from him with the cards in between them. The game went on for a few minutes before Patrick walked over and sat right next to Howard, leaning his white blonde head on his shoulder. The minute he did it, the tall man seemed to stiffen and freeze for a moment before looking down at the small boy and relaxing slowly, as if realizing that he wasn't a threat.

"He plays really well." Katie nodded to him as Patrick pointed to the several of the cards in his hand.

Howard's eyebrows rose as little fingers laid down a perfect meld of three two's.

"I'll be goddamned." He laughed jovially before taking a swig off the jar in his hand and leaning down more so Patrick could better see his cards. "How's he at seven card stud?"

"You are not taking that child gambling." Bridget scolded as she reached down into the basket of mending beside her and grabbed a pair of pants that needed a hem tacked up.

Howard shook his head, "Aw, you are no fun at all ma'am; a stick in the mud just like my brother."

"Hey!" Jack yelled.

"Not you, ya dolt."

"Boys, behave…" Katie chided as she discarded her last card and help up her empty hands, "Gotta pay attention!" Both of them groaned at their handful of cards and she clapped loudly at their misfortune.

"Count 'em up, let's go."

Bridget smiled at her sister's exuberance and at Patrick's comfort, it wasn't exactly the scenario she expected a couple of days ago, but to be honest she couldn't feel any more secure at the moment. It was a welcome weight off of her shoulders. Forrest had told her this morning that they would be taken care of under his roof, and she honestly believed him. The memory of a low, croaking voice crept into her mind again and she bit her lip to keep from laughing; as she shook her head and mumbled under her breath, "Crazy woman."

"What's that now?" Forrest asked absently, his eyes still staying on the ground; though by the question Bridget knew he was talking to her.

"Oh, um, I just remembered from the General Store this morning, Mrs. Mary Lou Burkett wanted me to give you her well wishes. We had a nice talk." Bridget answered carefully; her eyes focused a bit too hard at the mending in her hand.

"Umm, what she say to you?" Forrest questioned, a note of something akin to nervousness threading through his tone.

"Nothin' much," Bridget lied with a pleasant voice, "she thinks very highly of you, which was very nice of her to say."

Both Jack and Howard started to laugh out loud and Forrest seemed to shift in his chair uncomfortably.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Naw," Jack giggled. "That old woman has been tryin' to find Forrest a wife for a few years now. So I can't imagine the things she said to _you_."

"What do you mean to 'her'? You sayin' somethin's wrong with her?" Katie butted in angrily, "My sister is an amazing cook, and a good housekeeper aside from bein' beautiful. She'd be a perfect wife."

"That's the problem." Howard added, shuffling the cards. "That woman has the huntin' instinct of a mountain lion. I'm surprised she wasn't measurin' for your wedding dress and namin' your children before you left."

"Well, she was a _little _forward." Bridget managed calmly.

"What she say to him last time?" Jack asked Howard through a laugh.

Forrest's eyes narrowed and Bridget could see his jaw tense up; they were embarrassing the hell out of the normally stoic man. It reminded her of the constant feeling of being at the butt of Mary and Katie's taunts about her own shyness when it came to courting and members of the opposite sex. She didn't miss the moment that Howard gently moved Patrick away from his body.

"Somethin' about bein' a stallion that was long overdue to mount a good breed mare for a hard rut." He barely got the words out before he vaulted his long legs off the porch, dashing off to avoid Forrest's lunge at him. Howard jogged off twenty feet or so before doubling over in a howl of laughter. Forrest grumbled under his breath and sat back down, his eyes blazing at his older brother in the distance. Even Jack had the smarts to give himself a quick out off the porch if necessary.

The comment alone had blush surging up her collar; but she nearly gasped out loud at the way the mental images those same words evoked a dull throb low in her core that hadn't been felt in _years._ It was such a completely unnerving sensation that it was the only thing that could possibly explain what came out of her mouth.

"And what's wrong with that?"

Bridget's words left her mouth and her throat practically seized with panic. Even Katie swung her head around so fast at the remark that her long braid nearly whacked Jack in the face. She could feel every drop of blood in her entire body be drawn in by her racing heart and surged up into her face- she knew she was purple with mortification. "Well… what I said…what I meant to say, was that there is nothing wrong with someone thinking that Forrest should be married. He'd make a fine husband."

Her sister nearly cocked her head completely to the side at her words, as she silently mouthed- 'What is wrong with you?'

Bridget's eyes widened with horror, she needed to get out of there immediately- before the situation became any more embarrassing and she was forced to take her family and flee Blackwater Station as fast as she had left Roanoke. With a deep breath she stood up and promptly tossed the half hemmed pants, needle and all, back into the basket before calling to Patrick and Katie. "Well, I think we've lost track of time. It's time to take a bath young man, Katherine; I'd appreciate you helping me get him ready for bed."

"Oookay, sure thing." She answered standing up and taking Patrick's hand, "'Night everyone."

"Yes," Bridget repeated hefting the basket onto her hip, still talking a mile a minute and completely out of breath as her nerves had her entire body shaking. "Good night gentlemen, I'll see you all at breakfast." A chorus of mumbled replies was the last thing she heard as she dashed into the station and let the screen door slam behind her.

Katie was waiting just inside the room with a mischievous grin on her face. "You wanna talk about _that_?"

"Absolutely not," she snapped, "now get movin' or I swear to God I will make you sorry." The only reply to her vague and completely empty threat was an airy giggle and the sound of feet skipping up the stairs.

Bridget shook her head as the sound of raucous laughter came in from the porch outside, and she smiled at the sudden high pitched yelp that came a minute later- she guessed that Jack wasn't as fast as his older brother.

* * *

**Siblings...right? **

**Please leave a review...let me know what ya think!**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: So, this is for my good friend, WinterIsComing01 who wanted to know what Forrest had been thinking this whole time...it's amazing with that poker face of his how much is going on up in that noggin' : ).  
**

**There is also a bit that I am throwing in again of the AUish stuff I'm doing with events of the film...nice of him to let me do that.**

**Still ownin' nothin'...enjoy!**

* * *

Forrest woke before the sun rose; the same as he had done every day since he was a boy. He'd never been one that needed an alarm clock to get moving, it was as if his body was wired to respond to the hard-line organizational habits in his brain. There was always _something_ that needed to be done, and more often than not he was the one doing it, so every morning at four thirty he'd be awake. Didn't matter when he fell asleep the night before, he'd wake up just the same. It was just the way of things and he wouldn't have taken help with his work anyhow. He inwardly cringed at the thought of leaving either Howard or Jack in control of his affairs…they'd no doubt foul up the whole damn thing in a day's time.

With a loud yawn he stood up slowly and stretched his body, grimacing as ligaments and bones popped into alignment. For a man that considered himself to be beyond the reach of death, it seemed that he was beginning to feel his age; though he reckoned that being shot half a dozen times would do that to anyone, indestructible or not.

It had been over a year since that fat son-of-a-bitch in the Commonwealth Attorney's office had tried to get the better of him and his family. But he'd made an example of the piece of shit cop, Rakes that he'd sent, showing every single bootlegger and rumrunner in the goddamn County that no one made a Bondurant roll over and beg like a dog. He only wished it hadn't come at the cost of a bullet into his youngest brother and the life of Jack's friend Cricket Pate- he'd carry the weight of that burden for the rest of his life. Forrest shook his head to shelve the sad thought and dressed quickly in the darkness, heading downstairs to get started on the day's work.

The station was empty and perfectly silent this early in the morning, not a single soul making any noise whatsoever. It was these precious few moments of calm in his day that he enjoyed the most. He walked to his office, fishing underneath his shirt for the cord of twine that was perpetually around his neck. It was threaded through two iron keys, one that opened the door to his office and the other that opened the storehouse that held his finished product- his two most prized possessions. After grabbing a pile of ledgers off of his desk, Forrest meandered back to the same seat at the same round table that he sat at every morning.

He looked up at the clock on the wall and grumbled- it was twenty of five. Damn it all if he didn't want a cup of coffee. But he wasn't particularly inclined to drink the bitter tar-like sludge that would have resulted from making it himself. Of course three days ago it wouldn't have bothered him in the least- but that was before he started drinking _her_ coffee.

The mere thought of her this early in the morning was a testament to how much his routine had been upended recently.

Forrest was a creature of habit, always had been, and while he'd been raised with manners he never favored himself to be particularly generous. But that was before Eamon Mac Manus' granddaughter stood in his kitchen soaking wet, with her little sister and nephew, fighting back tears as he told her he'd unknowingly bought her inheritance right out from underneath her. What was he supposed to do, put them out in the cold? And thanks to Jack and his goddamn mouth, he was reminded that the old man had made him promise on his deathbed to watch out for his daughter Molly if she ever came looking for him.

So now he was a land lord; though admittedly he could have found a worse tenant than Miss Bridget Sullivan.

In two days she'd proved herself to be a competent housekeeper, an attentive waitress and the type of cook that was dangerous to his waistline; but it was her stubborn streak that stood out the most. Like some kind of hellcat, she had the daring to go toe to toe with him when grown men twice her size would have pissed their pants. It was an admirable trait, despite the fact that the first time he saw her standing in his office leaning over his desk and examining the handwritten deed he'd drawn up for the sale of her grandfather's land, his first instinct was to reach into his pocket, slip on his iron knuckles and lay her out for daring to touch his things.

Not that he'd ever do _anything_ like that. Sure Forrest had plenty of blood on his hands, but he'd never once raised his voice, let alone his hands, to a woman.

All things considered though, he _was_ mighty tempted to slap her silly when she hurled a mason jar at him yesterday morning and started shouting at the top of her lungs in the middle of the station about his personal business.

He hadn't said a word to her about what he did to make his money when they met. It wasn't his way to go about flaunting his name around like some sort of city gangster like Al Capone or Floyd Banner, he didn't need to. People around Franklin County knew who he and his brothers were and where to find them, and if they wanted something they were more than welcome to come to Blackwater and get it.

However he got the distinct impression from Bridget that she had an issue with both alcohol and people who sold it. She'd practically said as much when she out and out told him she wanted nothing to do with being behind a bar the first night she agreed to work for him, and the selling price of her grandfather's land had also been a point of contention.

But nothing could have prepared him for just how angry she was when she found out. He'd been stunned when the glass shattered and was acting on complete reflex when he slid his hand around her waist and bodily removed her from the room. Before he knew what the hell he was doing they were in his office and his face was in hers. She'd raged in the open air of the station, but once the office door slammed shut he saw the change in her, the emotion and fire was still burning in her blue eyes but her body betrayed her fear.

Forrest was familiar enough with it to know the difference between the sight of someone cowering because of what they _thought _you were going to do, and one who was bracing themselves because they _knew_ what was coming. And seeing her like that had instantly dissipated any anger in him about the situation.

He did the only thing he knew to be right, he gave her his word to keep her and her family safe.

The loud creaking of wooden stairs snapped him out of his daydream and Forrest stared quickly up at the clock again with a frown- it was five. He looked down at the still closed ledgers that sat in front of him and realized that he'd been thinking about her for the last twenty minutes and hadn't done one minute of damn work.

He gripped the pencil in his hand until his knuckles cramped with pressure, and irritation began to rumble in his chest. It was true that the first things that came to his mind when he thought about Bridget Sullivan was her hardworking traits and her strong personality, but thanks to his useless, shit-head brothers he was made very aware last night that the _next_ things that came to mind when he thought about her had nothing to do with cooking and cleaning.

Those things, he was ashamed to admit, had more to do with the curve of her pink lips when she smiled, and the way her ivory skin felt as soft as silk when he shook her hand. Quite simply, while Bridget may not have looked like one of the painted dolls that decorated the cover of magazines and the silver screen, the delicate lines of her face and the shape of her hourglass figure called out to everything in him that was a man.

And he hated it.

It was contrary to everything in the routine that he'd established, and any deviation from that irritated him to no end. Now, it wasn't to say that Bridget being an attractive woman bothered him, rather the issue stemmed from the fact that she was the _type_ of woman that he could see himself making an alteration in the ridged regime of his life for.

Forrest knew he wasn't an ugly man, but he'd never had any thoughts towards marriage or even being in a serious relationship, there simply wasn't time for it. Silly and self-serving things like that flew out the window when the Spanish Lady took everything from his family. At 17, he was left all alone to be a father to seven-year-old Jack and the voice of reason for an older brother who had seen too much of war and couldn't make it in the world on his own. He gave up his life to be the head of his family- and he never once questioned his decision.

Now, thirteen years later, Jack was a grown man, well age-wise anyhow, and Howard could fend for himself for the most part. But he'd become so accustomed to his life the way it was that he didn't really feel the need to change it. No matter how many times that Mrs. Mary Lou Burkett not so subtly reminded him of his on-going bachelor lifestyle. He liked his routine, it was satisfying and familiar.

"Good Morning, Forrest."

Bridget spoke quietly from right over his shoulder and jolted him into reality. Her soft voice was little more than a nervous whisper as she sat the little boy, Patrick, across the table and walked behind the bar. She didn't look him in the eye, and if he had to guess it was probably because his damn brothers had embarrassed her last night as badly as they had him.

Just the memory of the way her face had flushed at Howard's crude statement was enough to make his ears hot and get the attention of another, much lower, part of his body. The same part that he'd _just_ managed to calm down this morning after spending the better part the night nursing the type of aching hard-on generally reserved for hormone addled teenage boys. His irritation returned and that spark of emotion was enough for him to regain control of himself and keep his pants comfortable.

Both of those sons-of-bitches were going to get it today.

Forrest finally managed to mumble back some sort of greeting back to her before cracking open his books to get started on the work that he was already behind schedule on.

:o:o:o:o:o

His mind was buried deep in numbers and calculations a few minutes later when the heavenly smell of perfectly brewed coffee wafted into his nose. He looked up just as she pulled the pot off the stove and grabbed a cup off of the shelf, watching as the hem of the simple pale green dress she wore lifted up enough to briefly show a glimpse of creamy skin on the back of her thigh and he had to snap his eyes back down, lest he end up in trouble again. Just as she put the cup down beside him and poured out the steaming liquid, the door of the station opened and Howard came trudging in.

His older brother always looked a little worse for wear in the morning, most likely a side-effect of the alcohol that constantly flowed in his blood, but this morning he seemed a bit less ornery than usual. He took off his hat and sat down next to Bridget's sister with a grin on his face.

"Mornin' all, everyone sleep well?"

The blonde girl next to him was the only one that bothered to reply. She smiled sweetly and muttered a musical little answer, well aware of the fact that the question was directed to him and Bridget. Forrest's gaze narrowed angrily as he stared at them both. He decided to change the subject instead of bothering any sort of acknowledgement.

"I need you to take a ride with me first thing this mornin'. Shouldn't be long, but it's been a few days."

They hadn't been up to the still since their new visitors arrived, and he never liked to leave it unattended for more than a couple days at a time. Too much money and too much time invested to be lax on it. His attention to detail was the reason that his product was the best in the County; other moonshiners may have been content to throw some corn and sugar in a pot and leave it be- but not him.

"Yeah, alright; you want Jack to work with her for a while then?" Howard asked inclining his head towards the girl, "I don't want her in that barn alone; she's too new 'round those animals."

As if speaking of the devil, Jack hobbled over to the table at that moment, up late as usual. Forrest couldn't stop the smile that came to his face at the sight of his little brother still gingerly favoring his right leg. He'd caught him good with a charley horse punch to the thigh last night for his stupidity. Little bastard liked to run his mouth but wasn't smart enough to keep an escape plan in mind.

"What am I doin'?" He asked sleepily as he sat on the other side of her.

"Takin' Katie down to the barn and workin' with her this mornin' while Howard and I take a ride." Forrest explained.

"Yeah, sounds good." Jack answered immediately.

It was a bit too interested and excited a reply for Forrest's taste. The boy normally shucked off his chores with such creativity in his excuses that he swore that he should have been a damn storyteller. But it wasn't particularly hard to see just why he was so quick to change his tune this particular morning.

Bridget might have been a good-looking woman, but her little sister possessed the sort of stunning face that turned heads regardless of whether you were a man or a woman. She was just a tiny thing, with a touch of curves, a heart shaped face with big blue eyes and a perfect little mouth. She reminded him of the way those pixies were described in fairy-tales, delicate little creatures with porcelain skin and satiny blonde hair.

And none of that beauty seemed to be lost on his little brother.

He reasoned that it might be in his interests to clue Jack in to the fact that he best keep his pants buttoned, lest he meet up with the hellcat side of Bridget's personality. Then again there were moments in a man's life where he had to learn these things for himself, and the prospect of seeing him deal with something like that might prove too entertaining to miss. Forrest decided that he'd keep an eye on things just enough to keep them both from doing something that would damage their reputations, but beyond that he figured it was up to them.

His sharp eyes looked up to notice that he wasn't the only one watching. Bridget was listening to the entire table's conversation while maneuvering multiple pans of eggs, bacon and potato hash around on the stove and her stare was pointed, more than once, in the young couple's direction. She seemed to be straining to observe the entire exchange and he watched her with a careful eye as she almost put her hand in the pan of frying bacon. Her hand pulled back at the last minute and she seemed to curse her own foolishness as she shook her head and focused on scooping the cooked meat onto a big plate. He would have kept watching her; the fluid grace and efficiency of her movement in the small kitchen interested him, but decided against it when he caught Howard grinning like an idiot across the table.

A few minutes later breakfast was done and she was sitting next to him, helping the little boy get settled as he made sure to dole out enough food for everyone. Bridget poured him another cup of coffee before getting on for herself and he shook his head at her prompt attention to his needs- maybe he preferred her throwing things and screaming at him. That at least he was adequately equipped to deal with. Forrest shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

:o:o:o:o:o

There were three people on the face of the earth that knew the location of his new still site- and all of them had the last name Bondurant.

His primary location had been discovered and destroyed by Rakes and the ATU after they trailed Jack and Cricket last year. They'd made an example out of it and blown the goddamn thing to high hell- almost ten years work gone in a flash of dynamite. It still fucking royally pissed him off when he thought about it. He'd had the perfect place under a cluster of hundred year old willow trees, far enough into the countryside that not a soul would ever find it. At the time it was destroyed he wasn't sure where, or if, he was going to be able to find a replacement location.

He owed everything to Eamon. The old man had been as bad as Forrest when it came to his secrets, and even though he'd given him his land he refused to tell him where his still was hidden. With a long, loud laugh the Irishman had given him a toothless grin and told him that if he found it he could use it.

Forrest found it alright, the spring after the incident with the ATU, when he was surveying the property in the eastern most corner. It was built into a hillside in a thick grove of a hundred or more Virginia Pine trees, and at first he'd walked right past. But an empty Coca Cola bottle stuck on a branch caught his attention and drew his eye to the dirt. The entrance to a wooden structure was camouflaged under huge hanging blankets of pine needles that were man-made, created by meticulously weaving needles into coarse burlap fabric. There wasn't anything visible from the ground or the air when it was all covered up. He hated to admit it, but Mac Manus made _him_ look like an amateur.

The old man had somehow managed to hollow out a dugout room into the hill and joined it with a wooden building to create a space that was seven or eight feet tall, twenty feet long by fifteen feet wide. He'd lined the dirt part with pine boards and had even figured out an ingenious way to vent the roof, cutting large trap doors into the ceiling that could be left open or closed depending on the weather and humidity. He must have been digging and working on the damn thing for his entire life. Most importantly, it had enough room for five huge submarine style stills and plenty of dry storage space for the corn and sugar the operation required.

"So, went up to look at Mac Manus' old house last night after I left," Howard spoke up as he moved away the pine blanket to open up the door to the still. "It don't look good."

Forrest frowned at him, "What don't look good about it?"

"Roof's shot and it messed with the walls. Whole damn thing needs to be torn down and rebuilt."

He grumbled to himself as he took out a toothpick and began chewing on it. This was what he was afraid of; he was going to be left rebuilding the entire house for her. Money wasn't the problem; it was the matter of having the three of them sharing one room in the station for a month or two versus a year. Maybe he could find another bed; it couldn't be comfortable squeezing three people into the one that was in there, even if the boy and Katie were tiny.

"Whatcha thinkin'?"

Forrest shrugged, "Just how to make them more comfortable. If we gotta rebuild that place it's gonna take time. Poor woman shares a bed with two other people after standin' on her feet all day-can't imagine you sleep well like that."

Howard reached into his pocket and unscrewed the lid off a fresh jar of whiskey, "Well, sure you could find her somethin' else to lie on that might be more comfortable- well maybe it ain't _comfortable _to be on, but she'll sleep real well after."

His jaw clenched reflexively around the toothpick in his mouth. "You got about five seconds to shut your fucking mouth Howard, or you'll be drinkin' that booze out of a damn straw for a month."

He raised his hands defensively as his smirk widened, "I meant no harm little brother, just interested to see you lookin' out for a woman after all this time."

"Yeah, I'm lookin' out for her family too, ain't any different than I would do for anyone who needed help. Nothin' special, so shut your trap about it and get your ass to work, you're startin' to remind me of Jack." Forrest didn't bother to wait for his reply before walking into the door and tending to the first pot.

* * *

**Please review! Thanks to all who have reviewed, favorited and followed...means so much!**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Happy weekend! Please, please don't make me beg for a review! You all are reading...just go ahead and leave a little love! : )**

* * *

Another sunny morning spent cooped up with the wonders of the barnyard instead of enjoying the springtime in the country. Katie couldn't help but frown as she began her new ritual of milking the three dairy cows; then again it was ironic that she was even complaining about not having the freedom to go outside when she certainly wouldn't have had any back in Roanoke. Three days ago she was starving and living in a run-down tenement apartment, not sure where or when her next meal was going to come from and her days were spent working for wealthy families as a washer woman and a maid. If she was really lucky she could be a nanny for a month or two- but that never lasted very long. Wealthy railroad executives expected live in child care around the clock, and she refused to leave Bridget alone to raise Patrick and deal with their father.

So she stuck by her sister. Honestly it was the only thing she could do, she felt like she owed it to her. The woman had been taking care of her as a mother since she was little more than a kid herself. Bridget had given up so much to make sure that she was safe and happy. Katie shook her head sadly at the thought that her sister deserved a better hand than she'd been dealt, she should have already been married to a man that worshipped her, maybe even had children. A smile tugged at her lips when she thought about the fact that recently, while they still found themselves living in one room, the situation had somehow become infinitely better. Who knew ending up in a ditch and subsequently in a house with three men without a touch of propriety could have felt so much like home. Well, her stomach for one certainly enjoyed the change- giving Bridget access to food she could actually cook always had the best results.

And the company wasn't proving to be too shabby either. The Bondurant's were certainly an interesting group of men; the three brothers seemed to be as different from one another as her own sisters had been.

She'd begun to think of Howard like a protector in an odd sort of way, he wasn't exactly the conventional idea of a father figure; there was a bit too much whiskey and innuendo in him for that not to be weird. But he seemed to genuinely care about her, and often when they were working together he went out of his way to show her something new or compliment her at the end of the day for a job well done.

Forrest on the other hand was a complete puzzle. He was a quiet man, silent for the most part, actually, but he had the most intense eyes she'd ever seen. The grey orbs seemed to be constantly observing everything around him, probably quantifying and calculating people the same way he did the numbers in his books. Her mother had been fond of saying that "still waters ran deep" and he personified that.

It was strange though, she'd caught him more than once paying an inordinate amount of attention to Bridget. At first she was convinced that he was trying to keep tabs on her, maybe thinking that a woman that poor and desperate would have stolen from him after what had happened with her land. But after seeing the scene with his brothers last night, and the way that he became noticeably uncomfortable when the subject of marriage and, thanks to Howard's crude mouth, sex was brought up around Bridget- Katie wasn't sure if he wasn't watching her for an altogether different reason.

Now _that_ was interesting. Forrest was definitely good-looking enough to catch her sister's eye, _much_ more so than any of the few others that had courted her; and it was something that warranted a further look in her humble opinion. After all Bridget deserved a man strong enough to take care of her.

But it was the brother sitting a cow away from her at the moment that was starting to take up more of _her_ attention than she had expected. Katie looked on as Jack tried, and failed, to help her with her milking duties. For a split second she actually heard Howard in her head making fun of him. It wasn't that hard to do, and let's be honest if she'd picked it up in two days and Jack had been on the farm his whole life, he really _must_ have found every way possible to shirk his chores.

A hazel eye caught hers underneath the udders and a wide smile spread across his handsome face, "Hey there Dolly Daydream, you with me or what?"

She laughed at his clever little quip. "Yeah, I am. It's called _thinking, _Jack, and you should really try it sometime, be amazed what knocks around in your noggin'."

"Hey, I think all the time I'll have you know, Miss Sullivan."

"Really? What about, Mr. Bondurant? I'm real curious."

His eyes sought hers out again and Katie was sure she caught a bit of blush on his cheeks as he answered her, "Lately, a whole bunch about you."

"Oh." It was the only thing she could manage to say before her own face flamed with color.

"That_ and_ the drive we're gonna take. There's a real pretty place close by here near Snow Creek, nice spot to see the sun set."

Katie bit her lip to suppress the huge grin that was threatening to break out across her face any minute. "I see, and how is it that you are gonna convince Bridget to let you take me anywhere in a car, alone?"

Jack shrugged, "Just figured I'd ask is all, she likes me."

"For now," she grumbled. "But I guarantee you the second she thinks you mean any sort of romance towards me, you are gonna see a side of my sister that will send you runnin' away screaming."

"We just need to make sure she don't find out then."

Katie quirked her brow, "Yeah alright, Jack, what _else_ does she have to occupy her time with other than thinkin' about me and Patrick?"

He laughed, "Maybe we ought to get her and Forrest thinkin' about each other, and then they'll leave us the hell alone."

A giggle burst out of her mouth and she rolled her eyes, "Oh my goodness Jack, at least pick somethin' easy!"

She thought for a heartbeat before she spoke again, "Do you think they_ are_ thinkin' about each other like that? I mean they don't say more than a sentence a day to one another that has nothin' to do with business or meals."

"I can't be too sure," he answered honestly. "But I do know I ain't _ever_ seen Forrest get as embarrassed as he did last night, I mean normally he woulda just ignored us. His whole darn face was red though, almost as red as your sister's. So somethin' is up."

Katie sighed, "Tell me about it. I walked on egg shells the whole night thinkin' she was gonna swat me on principle. Actually I should be blamin' _you_ for that."

He stood up from his stool, walking over to where she was sitting to lean against the wall. "Alright, new plan, I'll just get that little man to distract her."

"Patrick?" She questioned. "Good luck; he'd know what you were up to. He's a smart boy for his age, don't let the quiet fool ya."

Jack smiled and stared down at his feet before asking in a quiet voice, "What's wrong with him?"

Katie stopped milking and turned around on her stool, an angry scowl twisted up her pretty face and she snapped at him. "There's _nothing_ wrong with him at all."

His hazel eyes widened in shock at her tone, "I didn't mean anything bad! I'm so sorry, Katie. It's just that he doesn't talk…"

Jack's earnest apology calmed her down immediately; it wasn't his fault he didn't understand.

"It's alright. I know it's odd." She said, "He was two when his parents died. All three of them got sick with scarlet fever; Patrick was the only one who got better. He hasn't said a word since they closed my sister Mary's coffin. That was five years ago next month."

Katie could feel the tears start to form in her eyes and her throat tightened up. God, she missed her sister so much. Mary had always been the jokester, the one with a big, warm smile and a tight hug to comfort her no matter how bad the day was. Her hands went up to cover her face as she felt herself begin to lose it. A second later she felt a gentle hand on her wrist and a tug on her arm, letting the momentum take her body Katie moved forward. She stood up and without opening her eyes she let her arms slide around his waist and buried her face into his chest as she completely broke down. Jack's arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace and through her sobs she could feel his lips resting on the top of her head as he softly told her that it was alright to cry.

"He's a survivor," Jack mumbled into her hair, "Just like Forrest. And I know he's gonna be just as strong when he grows up thanks to you and Bridget."

She cried until her tears were completely dried up and she was left with nothing but a nasty case of the hiccups and a puffy red face with the eyes to match. Katie pulled away from his body and was a little embarrassed with the way that she'd literally soaked his shirt, but as her face tilted up to meet his she was surprised to see that his eyes were a bit watery as well.

Responding on complete instinct she rubbed his back gently and tried to smile, "Thanks, Jack. I am sorry if I got you upset too. I am still so silly about all this; I act like a stupid child."

He cleared his throat and answered as calmly, "It ain't silly. And you definitely ain't behavin' like a little kid. You lost your sister; I mean I can't think about loosin' Forrest or Howard- even if he is a pain in my ass."

That was all took to make her start laughing out loud. He smiled back and squeezed her playfully, "See, all better."

Katie was beaming as she looked up at his face, and then it suddenly it hit her- they were still wrapped up in each other's arms. Instantly she became aware that the entire front of her body was pressed very tightly against his. She swallowed hard and she tried to ignore the little voice in her head that noticed the way that Jack's arm and chest muscles felt quite a bit more defined up close than they looked. His face seemed to reflect the same conflicting emotions as his eyes darted back and forth, searching hers. Katie felt her entire body shiver with nerves, he wasn't going to kiss her…was he? Her mind began to race as she stared back at him, and finally she came to the realization that she might not mind all that much if he did kiss her…in fact, as she noticed his head tilting down towards her ever so slightly and her eyes began to slide closed of their own volition, she realized she definitely wanted him to kiss her.

All of a sudden a loud crashing noise echoed through the barn and they both flew away from each other like they'd been burned. Katie spun around to see that the cow she'd been milking all morning had kicked over the pail and made a huge mess on the floor of the barn.

"Mother-_fucker_!" She cursed loudly as she tried to save as much of it as possible. Jack jumped to help and they managed to save some of the liquid.

"Wow!" Jack exclaimed with a chuckle, "Now _that_ is a word I never, ever thought I'd hear outta your sweet mouth."

Katie blushed and shook her head, "Well, I _have_ been spending a lot of time with Howard. I think I've learned ways to use that particular word that I didn't think existed."

She frowned at the half empty pail in her hand. "So much for our work today, you are gonna get me fired."

"Naw, you can just start fresh tomorrow, besides Howard will blame it all on me anyhow." He stood up and held out his hand for her to take a hold of, "Come on, it's gotta be past noon, let's go see what your sister's makin' for lunch."

Katie grabbed his hand and stood up, noticing that instead of letting go once she was upright he pressed his palm against hers and properly laced their fingers together for the long walk back up to the station. A flutter raced through her stomach and she couldn't stop the smile that broke out across her face from ear to ear. My goodness, how was she going to hide this feeling?

She was going to get the sweetest boy she'd ever met killed at her sister's hands.

:o:o:o:o

The station was insanely busy. Bridget was literally running back and forth between the tables and the counter, making sure that every last cup of coffee was topped off and people had whatever food they were looking for. She didn't even have enough time to remember that when Forrest told her he was leaving this morning with Howard for a "ride" she was petrified at the prospect of being at the station alone. He'd even given her the choice of whether or not she wanted to sell while he was off premises, letting her know that the normal practice was that it wasn't done. The customers all knew that he alone had the keys and complete authority, it kept things safe. She agreed to it with little persuasion.

Although her agreeable behavior had as much to do with the subject matter as it had to do with the fact that she couldn't bear to look him in the eye and needed to get away as fast as politely possible. After the previous evening she couldn't get control of either her wandering mind or her raging body, all it took was remembering Howard's lewd comment to send her heart into a lust induced panic. And that was when her eyes were open.

When she'd tried to fall asleep last night she found that there was a whole host of incredibly vivid images and feelings waiting for her the moment she closed her eyes.

Bridget wasn't a particularly wanton woman, and she wasn't a prude either, sex had always just been another thing that she'd had no time for in her busy life. But all it took was one thought about Forrest involved in anything remotely sexual to completely wreak havoc on her. Picturing how it would feel to have the strong, solid weight of his body pressing all around and _inside_ her, while that mouth and those amazing lips touched her wherever he wanted to put them. It was enough to make her core come to life with such a strong, intense throb that it had actually woke her out of a sound sleep. She had to get up out of bed and physically cross the room and put her forehead on the cool glass of the window pane to try to calm down, and even then the scorching hot flesh between her legs refused to be ignored. The mortifying thought crossed her mind that she might have to draw up a bath and take care of her own release before she found any respite.

And she refused to do _that_ with him right down the hall!

Even now as she stood at the counter in the middle of the station she could feel it start to awaken again, warm tingling waves began to ghost through her body, settling right between her legs. Bridget dug her nails into the wooden counter in absolute frustration, how had this man managed to do _this _to her without saying a word? Just yesterday morning she considered him a criminal, not worth the air breathed or the space that he occupied- and now she couldn't stop thinking about him.

For Chrissakes…they hadn't even had a damn conversation longer than a few words that didn't revolve around some sort of business transaction!

She shook her head and took a deep breath, her hands came up to touch the hot skin on her face and she immediately busied herself with fixing her hair. There was no time in her life for foolishness like this; the days of being an impulsive girl were long behind her. It was time for her to snap out of it and get back to work.

As if answering her prayer the screen door opened up to reveal a tall man that seemed completely out of place in the very rural setting of Blackwater Station. He was wearing a perfectly tailored three piece pin-striped gray suit, with a matching fedora and a pair of very dark sunglasses. The man stood for a moment without moving, as his face seemed to look around and take in every table in the place before he spotted her and moved towards the bar.

He settled at one of the stools and took off his hat and glasses, continuing to eye his surroundings with a disgusted look on his face, as if he were being forced to sit on the dirty floor of a barn. Bridget smiled tentatively as she observed his thin, severe face and slicked back ebony hair with a measure of skepticism- this man was from the city. And not a city like Roanoke, more like Richmond or Chicago.

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a silver plated cigarette case, removing one and lighting it with an equally extravagant lighter. A puff of smoke curled out of his lip and he focused a pair of dark brown eyes on her face.

"Good afternoon," Bridget said evenly, feeling obligated to address him as the only person working at the moment.

"I'm sure it is, for you," He drawled in an arrogant voice.

"Can I get you anything to eat? I also have coffee or iced tea to drink at the moment."

The corner of his nose wrinkled in distaste as he looked at the stove and the coffee pot. "No. I am not here for anything like that. I'm here for business."

This was what she was afraid of having to deal with. Bridget took a deep breath and stared back at the man, "Unfortunately Mr. Bondurant isn't in at the moment. He should be back within the hour and you can speak to him then about whatever business you need to do."

A smile slowly spread across the man's sallow face and the look in his eyes instantly froze the blood in her veins. She suddenly wondered if she shouldn't have said that Forrest was gone…that there was no one here but her.

"I don't really care where or what _Mister _Bondurant is doing today."

The snide emphasis he placed on the title made her think that he really had no idea who Forrest was at all. But nothing could have prepared her for what he said next.

"I am here to see you, though, Miss Sullivan."

Bridget's blue eyes widened in shock, "I'm sorry; I think you have the wrong person. I don't conduct any business."

He extinguished his cigarette on the counter and stared right back at her, his dark eyes narrowing sharply. "Oh, I don't make mistakes when it comes to business, _Bridget_." He paused to make sure that the tone of his voice was having the desired effect before continuing, "That is your name, isn't it? Miss Bridget Sullivan, daughter of Angus Sullivan, recently deceased. Currently in the company of your youngest sibling Miss Katherine Sullivan and your young nephew, Patrick O'Connell- I have the right person don't I?"

She was trying not to show her fear, but as all the color drained from her face Bridget could feel her knees growing weak and the room began to spin.

"What do you want from me?" She whispered, trying to control the hysterical panic that was beginning to take over her body.

He leaned his elbows on the counter and sighed dramatically. "I want what is owed to a very powerful acquaintance of mine, nothing more." He pointed at her sharply and continued, "See your daddy used to be a driver for me, a drunk, unreliable piece of Irish trash, but a driver none the less. And the day he had his little 'accident' he was carrying $2000 of my money."

"There was a fire," Bridget said anxiously. "There was almost nothing left of him! He burned up, completely."

"I'm sure," His voice was flat of any sympathy, dropping to a dark whisper. "But that doesn't get me my fucking money does it? And _I_ owe people, just the same as you do. So _my_ problem is now going to become _your_ problem."

"I have nothing to give you."

He reached out quickly and snatched her wrist, gripping it with bruising pressure as he yanked her towards his face. "Oh, you may not have money, but you have things to lose, Miss Sullivan."

He squeezed her wrist until she could feel the bones protesting the pressure, "I don't need to tell you that I could get quite a price in Chicago for something as pretty as little Katie. There are a lot of lonely men out there who would just eat up something that young and sweet."

Bridget ripped her hand away and backed up; her entire body was now shaking with both terror and fury.

"Get out of here, _now_!" She whispered frantically, "I swear to God I'll kill you if you touch my family."

He merely shrugged his shoulders and stood up, putting his hat and glasses back on. "I'll ignore that. You are an irrational woman, after all." He brushed off the sleeve of his jacket and leaned down to the counter one last time.

"I'll be generous and give you _one_ month. But I don't have to tell you, Miss Sullivan, if I come back here and you don't have my money…I'll take it any way I can. And as for Bondurant- he buts his nose in where it doesn't belong, he'll end up with a lot more that a fucking cut throat when I am done with him."

With that threat he turned around and walked to the door pausing one more second to turn back around and give one last look, "I'll be seeing you soon, now."

The door slammed shut as he left and Bridget had to fight everything in her power to keep from completely breaking down. Waves of nausea gripped her stomach and she had to hold the counter to keep from falling to the ground, her hand went up to cover her mouth as she took deep breaths, trying to keep the tears at bay. She reached over with a trembling hand to grab the pitcher of iced tea; she needed something cold to drink, her blood pressure was roaring so hard that she was burning up in a fever. She was barely able to pour herself a glass and take a small sip; the liquid ran down her throat and felt like absolutely no relief.

The sudden noise of the door opening made her jump back in alarm, sending the contents of the glass splashing all over the front of her green dress. A very small measure of comfort came over her when she noticed that the man hadn't returned. It was Jack and Katie, and behind them she heard the heavy footsteps that signaled Forrest and Howard's return. She was safe.

Suddenly the man's cold warning of "one month" echoed through her head and all it took was one look at her sister's face to crumble. Bridget grabbed the front of her soaked dress and tore for the back of the station, barely taking the time to scream out to Katie to watch Patrick while she changed.

:o:o:o:o:o

Katie stood in complete confusion as her sister practically sprinted up the stairs.

"What was that all about?" Jack asked scratching his head.

"I have no idea." She answered with a frown, "I think she spilled something."

"Who the fuck was that leavin' here just now in that coupe?"

Forrest's low voice startled both of them and Katie turned around to meet him with her hands in the air.

"I have no idea what is goin' on? We just walked in and Bridget took off runnin' upstairs."

She barely had the time to get the words out before Forrest pushed past them and ran up after her.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget managed to get up the stairs and into her bedroom before she started shaking and crying hysterically. Her mind was flying a mile a minute about what she was going to do about the situation. Did she want to run? Common sense told her that if this man had already found her here in Franklin County, there wasn't anywhere that she could run to get away for long. Should she tell Forrest? She didn't want to put him in danger- and she couldn't ask him for that kind of money…who knew if he even had it?

She pulled her soaking wet dress up over her head in a swift pull, crying out in pain as the buttons became tangled into the mass of curls in her bun and trapped her arms.

Pure dread froze her body, when in mid-twisting and wrestling with the dress she heard the door to the room burst open. A scream bubbled up and instantly died in her throat when she recognized _his_ voice.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Just a little shameless back and forth tension...hope you enjoy ; ). **

* * *

The door to the room burst open and Bridget instantly jerked her body away in response, trying desperately to cover herself. Her dress and arms were tangled over her head and she could feel that her simple cotton slip had ridden up to expose her legs and thighs almost all the way up to the bottom of her panties.

"Bridget!" She could hear Forrest call out to her in a concerned yell just as he moved into the doorway.

"Don't come in!" She shouted in a breathless panic. It was too late. Bridget could see his shadow through the thin fabric of the dress and she could feel her face instantly flush with embarrassment.

"Umm…sorry, now…I…uhh…saw you run…and uhh…"

"I'm fine Forrest," She answered shortly as she tried to move her arms. It was no use; the buttons had managed to tangle themselves completely into her curly hair. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, she was absolutely stuck. There was no way that she was getting out of this situation without help.

"I'll be goin' now, uhh…sorry again."

"Wait," Bridget winced as she spoke. She closed her eyes tight, not willing to believe that she was actually in this situation. "I'm…my hair is stuck. Can you please help me?"

His steps were loud on the wooden floor as he crossed the room and came up right beside her. She couldn't help but hold her breath as she felt his warm, rough hands gently grab her arms and spin her around so he could better access the no doubt wild knot of hair that was holding her prisoner. Bridget could feel his fingers nimbly tugging on her curls and blessedly it only took a moment before she was able to slide her head back through the opening and redress herself in the sodden garment. She smoothed down the front of her wrinkled and wet dress, and tried to ignore the fact that thanks to her clumsiness they were now standing within inches of one another.

Her gaze stayed focused on his collar, in an attempt to avoid staring at his face. But that was the least of her concerns. She may have been able to avert her eyes to hide from his full beautiful lips, but her nose was working overtime and she couldn't avoid taking a deep breath. It seemed like the amazing and unique scent that followed him everywhere had somehow become more potent, as if wherever he was working this morning increased it. She could smell the earth, a deep woodsy bite that reminded her of moist pine needles and something sweet, like alfalfa or hay. It was amazing. And somehow, though her heart and her head were still flying a mile a minute, it managed to calm and center her. This man unnerved her like nothing else she had ever experienced, yet in the same instant she felt safe beside him.

"Thank you." Bridget finally said.

Forrest nodded slowly, and she hated the fact that she couldn't stop herself from watching him draw his lower lip into his mouth. "Who was that leavin' just now, in the coupe? Looked like it was city traffic, ain't gonna find a car like that 'round here."

Her throat went dry at the memory of the dark man and his ominous threat. She wanted to tell Forrest everything, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it just yet. She still needed to calm herself down. "He was just passin' through I believe." The nervous tremor in her voice was more than evident.

"He bother you?"

"No." Bridget answered immediately. Her eyes stayed down and away from his.

"Bridget, look at me." His voice was low and serious and she couldn't stop the tears from pricking at the corners of her eyes. She raised her face and swallowed hard, biting down on the inside of her cheek to regain her composure as she stared back into his sharp grey eyes. "I asked you a question."

His gaze searched her face and she smiled in a practiced way, trying to avoid the scrutiny. "Forrest, nothin' happened. He came in, was rather rude, and left after I refused to sell him anything. I appreciate your concern, really I do, but I can take care of myself."

Forrest stared at her for another minute and finally nodded, "Alright, then." He turned to leave and shut the door behind him without looking back.

The minute that he was out of sight her hand flew up to her mouth and she practically dove at the small mirror in the corner of the room, gasping out as she took in her bright red face and her completely disheveled hair. She looked like an absolute _mess_. Bridget grumbled angrily as she took the time to unbutton her dress all the way and properly step out of it. Trying not to notice how flimsy and sheer her slip was and the fact that he had most likely seen the better part of her body completely exposed. At least her underwear had managed to keep her modest.

And thankfully the scars on her back had been covered as well. She wasn't in the mood to have him looking at her with pity like some sort of damaged animal from now on. After quickly pulling her hair down and re-braiding it, she slipped on another plain dress and quickly ran downstairs. For a moment she was actually grateful for Forrest's distraction, it was the perfect way to ignore what had happened- at least for the time being.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget reappeared just in time to hear Howard once again mercilessly taunting poor Jack about slacking off on his work and caught the inevitable vulgar rejoinder the older man had coming.

"Can we keep proper language and behavior around the child, gentlemen?" She said with a strict tone pointed at the both of them as she stepped through the waist high door and grabbed her apron behind the bar, walking to a customer on the other end. "I'd appreciate if he does choose speak one day that his words will not include _that _one."

Patrick for his part didn't seem to care much at all about the situation, or the language being used. The little blonde boy had already moved himself and all of his rocks over to where Forrest was sitting at his usual table.

Katie sighed loudly and jumped up on one of the bar stools, her foot curling underneath her to add a boost in height as she leaned onto the counter. "What's for lunch, Bridget, I'm starving."

Bridget reached into the far cupboard to grab a jar of whiskey for the man who had laid his money down. After nodding him off with a curt smile she turned to her sister, "Katherine Anne, I have had zero time this mornin' to be slaving away as your own personal cook. There is a loaf of bread back here and since I see that you aren't busy at the moment and still have both sets of arms and legs that the good lord gave you, why don't you get off your bony behind and make yourself something to eat."

Katie slid off of her stool with a frown and took an exaggerated amount of time to get around the counter and open the refrigerator staring at the various butcher wrapped pieces of pork, before settling on some sliced ham.

Bridget walked past her and moved into the main room before making a stop at Forrest's table. She tried as hard as possible _not _to think about what had just transpired between them when she asked quietly, "Can I get you anything for lunch? Or drink, maybe?"

He stopped his work and his eyes glanced up to hers for only a second before he shrugged and spoke to the ledger instead of her, "I'll get it myself; I know you've been busy."

"Too busy to take orders from my sister, Forrest, but you've been out all mornin' working hard. Now, what can I get for you?"

"Coffee's good. Maybe some of that ham salad you made yesterday, if there ain't any left I'll just have a slice of ham in a sandwich… with a little mayonnaise on one piece of the bread."

The specificity of his order made her smile, "I'll have it right out for you." She passed by both Jack and Howard who were looking rather concerned with their own prospects of finding a meal, "I have a little leftover ham salad or a ham sandwich, your choice?"

Howard tried to seem disinterested as his stomach grumbled loudly, "Ham and mustard." He paused for a second before looking at the ground, "a cuppa coffee too, please."

"Uh, I'll take that ham salad if there's any left." Jack answered quietly, "If not just a plain sandwich."

"Sounds good," Bridget answered, mentally cataloging the order and realizing that another batch of ham salad would probably be a smart decision for the afternoon, "Why don't you boys take a seat and I'll have it over soon."

:o:o:o:o:o

Forrest _hated_ being behind the grind, and today was turning out to be a complete goddamn write-off as far as his bookkeeping was concerned. He'd already lost a half an hour this morning staring at the walls like a brain-dead hop-head and now, when he normally would have been working through lunch, he was busy sitting at a table listening to Jack talk a mile a minute about something or another completely useless and foolish. Though as the straining discomfort in his pants would be first to remind him, it didn't matter what the hell he was supposed to be doing, his entire day went out the window when he barged into the spare room and caught Bridget undressing earlier.

He'd been genuinely concerned about her after walking in to the station and seeing her sister panicked and that strange coupe pulling out of the driveway. A brand new Ford V8 like that was as out of place in Franklin County as his wreck of a truck would have looked in downtown Chicago. Admittedly he was much more vigilant with traffic after the mess last year with the Commonwealth Attorney- but there were plenty of people about on the other side of the law who were just as likely to pull up to the station in one of those cars. And he didn't want her having to deal with either one of them without him being close.

So he'd bounded up the stairs like some sort of damn bull in a china shop, and burst into her room completely unannounced as if he'd been raised in a barn without a shred of manners or decency. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

She was standing in the light of the window with her dress tangled up in her hair, arms over her head, exposing the entire lower half of her body to his unsuspecting eyes. Now, it's not to say he'd never seen a woman naked before, he'd enjoyed his youth plenty; but seeing Bridget Sullivan's long legs without a stitch of clothing on would certainly be burned into his memory for the foreseeable future. A seemingly endless expanse of milky white skin graced her calves and wound up to thighs that were supple and lightly defined- the type of body that was a testament to her hardworking nature. Thankfully the rest of her backside had been obscured by the cotton fabric of her underwear; he didn't think he'd have been able to walk away if he'd seen it.

The mouthful of bread he was chewing on suddenly became stifling and nearly choked him at the thought of how easy it would have been to untangle the fabric, pull the dress over her head, lift her up and lay her down on the bed. To free the flowing mass of auburn curls on her head that were perpetually pinned up and so controlled and bury his nose into the crook of her neck; taking in the fragrance of ivory soap and clean powder that seemed to cling to her.

_Goddamn it._

Forrest shifted in his seat and hunched over the table, he was so far gone in his ridiculous mind that he missed the moment that Jack started talking to him.

"You listenin', Forrest?"

"What now?" He mumbled in a low grunt, trying to make himself look as if he wasn't just staring off into the deep blue yonder like some sort of simpleton.

"I was sayin' that there's a big barn dance tomorrow night in town. We should go." He repeated through a mouthful of his lunch, "I mean we ain't been into town in a long time to sell, last year I think."

He shrugged indifferently and stared down at his food, for the first time in his life so very glad that his little brother never shut his mouth. It was the distraction he needed to get his mind out of his pants and back to more pressing matters.

Jack actually had a point though, they hadn't done any business in town for a long time, and prior to last year's situation it was generally one of the more lucrative things they engaged in. People in town liked to drink, and people in town _really _liked to drink when they danced around like a bunch of jackasses.

"I am always up for an evening out," Howard piped up with a smile. "Be nice to take in some new scenery."

"Yeah, alright," Forrest answered, ignoring the wink and connotation that his brother used. "We'll put a few cases together and be there for the night."

The answer hadn't even fully left his mouth before Jack opened up his again, turning to the pretty blonde who happened to be sitting right next to him again.

"You comin', Katie?"

Her eyes went wide and a look twisted up her plump little mouth that reminded him of the same one Jack used to give their mother about getting his way. She took a deep breath and stared at her older sister, "Can I go, Bridget? Please? I haven't done anything fun in months."

Bridget wiped her mouth and rolled her eyes at the sight. He had to keep himself from laughing at the fact that it sure looked like this was a regular conversation between the two of them.

"Katie, I don't think it's appropriate." She answered evenly.

"I know what they are sellin', Bridget. Honestly, I ain't exactly a newborn babe, I'm twenty."

The petulance in her voice was starting to come out in force and Forrest almost wanted to sit back in his chair to watch the show as the older woman sat up straight and narrowed her eyes in a shrewd stare. The way she commanded attention with little more than the slight incline of her chin interested him. It was just like watching her move about in the kitchen, every angle and step was poised and deliberate- with nothing wasted.

"Then you should know what it looks like for a single young lady to appear in public with three men, unescorted."

A loud huff and a grumble was the only response she received.

Bridget covered her face with her hands and after a moment focused back on her sister again. "Fine," she answered. Though the tone suggested she was anything _but_. "You can go. And you can go because _I'll _personally be there to escort you. How does that sound?"

If Katie was unhappy with the arrangement she managed to keep a poker face up that was good enough to take to the city. "That sounds absolutely lovely sister; I hope you wear your blue dress." She answered with a trite little smile.

Forrest quickly stared down at the table again the moment there was mention of her in a party dress, and he cursed the way his traitorous body instantly responded to thoughts of her primped and painted up. This was unacceptable; he needed to get in control of himself and fast. Here he was sitting at a table in the middle of the station surrounded by people and he was so rock-hard his fucking teeth ached. It was pathetic. In fact he was damn near tempted to get up, walk across the room and start a fist-fight with the first drunk that looked at him in the hopes that someone could knock some sense into him.

Instead, behaving like the fool he was acting today, he settled on standing up from the table with his stack of books covering the front of his trousers like a schoolboy and fled to the safety of his office without so much as a word.

_Goddamn it. _

:o:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget sighed wearily as she rubbed the back of her neck and tossed the dirty washcloth back into the sink. It was a little after ten-thirty and the station was finally empty. She practically needed to chase the last stragglers out of here tonight; so much for waiting for the summer for the late nights. But despite the fact that she couldn't get rid of them, she had to admit that tonight the company was actually rather entertaining. Howard had stuck around for a while after dinner and got to talking with a few people, that talking led to loud, raucous laughter and that led to her being introduced as Eamon Mac Manus' granddaughter to the entire room.

Apparently the old man had known more than Walter Nash. Every single one of the people sitting at the tables had enthusiastically raised a glass in his honor and demanded that she have a drink with them. Bridget had declined with a polite smile explaining that she was feeling somewhat under the weather and didn't want to get anyone else sick by drinking from their container. Whiskey aside, it was enough to make her smile for the first time in a long time. She had family roots here in Franklin, and it was nice to know.

She untied her apron and walked around the bar towards the back of the station where the light from Forrest's office was still shining into the dim room. He had spent the entire afternoon in there, and when supper was ready he'd given her nothing more than a grunting reply that he was busy working. She didn't want to bother him; there was nothing he seemed to take more serious than his work, so she settled on bringing the plate of pork chops into his office with a healthy side of applesauce. He ate the entire thing in record time, leaving her with a perfectly clean plate and the monosyllabic expression of gratitude she was fast becoming used to.

Bridget chewed her lip as she approached the doorway, the quiet night giving her thoughts time to remember her earlier encounter with him. Her cheeks flushed with color and she began to unconsciously twirl a loose curl of hair around a finger as she relived the memory, her heart fluttering in her chest. Admittedly it wasn't the smartest thing to have on her mind as she leaned against the door jam and took in the sight of him still furiously writing. His light brown cardigan sweater had been discarded, neatly folded over the back of his chair, while the simple pinstriped cotton shirt he was left in was rolled up to the elbows, exposing his muscular forearms and the sleeve garters spanning his biceps further drew emphasis to his build. He was leaning so far into his work that is nose was almost brushing the paper and a toothpick perched precariously on his full lower lip.

She took a deep breath into her nose and closed her eyes; half wishing she'd taken someone up on their offer of damn drink tonight before shaking her head, she knocked to get his attention.

"All closed up." Her voice was a bit softer and more breathy than she wanted, "You almost done, it's late."

Forrest put down his pencil and sat up straight, turning slightly to face her, though his eyes did not meet hers, "Almost, got a bit more to do. You head up to bed, now."

Bridget nodded and went to turn away before she remembered Walter's comment the day before about the way he'd taken care of her grandfather when he was ill. He'd selflessly given of himself twice for her family, and he deserved to know that she was grateful. "Forrest?" She spoke up, with an air of confidence returning to her voice, "I talked to Walter Nash yesterday afternoon, and he told me what you did for my grandfather. I just wanted to thank you."

The remark seemed to take him off guard for a moment. His stare shifted back to her face for a beat before he nodded slowly, "He was a good man, wasn't anything more than what should have been done."

"Well, I appreciate it as his family."

"His house is gonna need to be torn down and rebuilt, walls and roof are no good." He continued abruptly, his stare falling down on the floor, "It'll take me a half-a-year at least. You're welcome to stay here just as you are 'till then. You need a bed?"

Bridget's cheeks flushed at the question, he'd just told her that she'd be homeless for another six months and the only thing that registered to her brain was the fact that he was talking to her about a bed. She really needed to call out a search party for her common sense and her dignity; it was most likely hiding with the modesty she'd lost this morning.

"An extra one would be wonderful, but we can make do without. We've slept like we are now for years." She finally answered as her hand reached up to play with her hair again.

Forrest nodded, "I'll look for one tomorrow." He stared at her for a long moment and his grey eyes seemed to focus on her twirling finger before he quickly shifted in his seat and looked away fiddling with his pencil, "Yeah, alright then, good night."

She accepted the mumbled dismissal as the end of their conversation, and she turned away with her own quiet whisper. Bridget calmly made her way up the stairs, her exhausted body aching for the comfort of a mattress and pillow. She just hoped that tonight when she closed her eyes she wouldn't be met with the same endless erotic images that stole her sleep the previous evening. Though, if the flush on her cheeks was any indication…it was going to be a long night.

* * *

**Oh, my. Enjoy? Let me know! Please!**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Needed to get this out for the weekend!**

**I just wanted to thank everyone for the reviews, favs and follows...means more than I can say! Please, please keep it up!  
**

* * *

The entire day, from the moment she got up until she dried the last supper dish was an absolute blur. There were people everywhere in the station, and Bridget began to worry that if it was this busy at the very beginning of summer, what was it going to be like in July and August when the daylight stretched well past eight? She yawned loudly and stared at the stacks of plates that Katie was diligently putting away with a joyful bounce in her step that was no doubt due to the planned evening activities. And_ she_ wanted to get all gussied up and head to a barn dance about as much as she wanted a hole drilled into her head.

But she'd already promised, and lord knows if she backed out now she'd have to listen to her sister bellyaching about it for the next week at least.

"Alright I'm all done!" Katie clapped her hands loudly, her bright smile stretched from ear to ear as she gushed, "Now let's go get cleaned up and dressed!"

Bridget smiled, trying to feign some sort of excitement, "I'm ready."

:o:o:o:o:o

A half hour later as Bridget stood in front of the dull mirror in the small, shared bedroom in nothing but her navy blue satin slip and silk stockings, she couldn't shake the feeling of nerves that gripped her stomach and made her hands tremble. She wasn't ready for this at all. It had been years since she'd been to any sort of dance- six years to be specific, and the last time she'd gone to one had been the start of her ill-fated relationship with Caleb Holmes. The memories of him set a frown on her face.

Caleb had been a good friend of her sister Mary's husband James. She'd first met him in the middle of a dance hall at Christmastime, both had been subsequently abandoned by their friends and were left with no choice but to fall into an awkward two-step; lest they remain standing there in the center of the room like lumps on a log. He was a nice looking man, tall and slender with a well defined jaw and warm chocolate brown eyes. His mild manner complimented her personality very well, and he made enough money as the assistant manager of the local dairy that he would be able to provide quite comfortably for the future. Everything about him made complete sense to her. So after a pleasant courtship, Caleb presented her with a modest engagement ring on their one year anniversary and they were set to be married the following spring.

Then her entire life came crashing down when Mary and James passed away and she was left caring for Patrick. It had been too much for him to deal with. Caleb already disliked the responsibility of looking after Katherine, and he refused to provide for another mouth to feed. He left her on a sunny morning in May, the day after she buried her sister, without saying more than he was "sorry" and that if she wished she was free to keep the ring he'd given her. It was the last time she'd had anything to do with a man in a romantic relationship.

"Should I wear my hair down?"

Katie's question pulled her out of her head and back to the present. Bridget looked over to see her sister twirling around in her best dress; watching the way it moved. It was a pale, peachy pink satin knee-length slip that was covered by a beautiful sheer layer that fell to her calves with ruffled cap sleeves that led into a modest neckline, and the entire thing was embroidered with small pink, green and yellow flowers. The dress flattered her tiny figure and set off her crystal blue eyes and soft blonde curls to perfection, she'd already applied a small bit of soft shimmering eye-shadow and light pink lipstick. Katie looked so happy, carefree and _young_.

"Maybe half and half," She answered quietly. "That is how I am doing mine; I have no patience to deal with it tonight."

Bridget walked to the trunk and pulled out the sheer cover layer of her dress and slid it over her head. She couldn't help but stare at her reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing the way the deep blue gauzy fabric hugged her curves and her trim waist before stopping just above her ankles in a slight scalloped ruffle. It was the neckline that concerned her though; the top of the dress was basically sleeveless, a flap of ruffled fabric sat on her shoulders and fell to the back, but it plunged to a healthy v-shape in the front. And thanks to her rather generous chest she was left displaying a bit more cleavage than she would have liked. But it was the only dress she owned that wasn't plain cotton and well worn.

"I always liked that dress on you," Katie said while Bridget applied a tiny bit of light gray shadow to her lids and searched for her raspberry colored lipstick. The blonde pulled out another tube and handed it to her, "Wear red, it matches better."

"I don't wear…" Bridget began to protest that she didn't wear red lipstick because it was indecent, but the look on Katie's face was going to mean an argument that she didn't want to even deal with. "Fine, I'll wear it." She applied the color and stared at herself as she pinned up the sides of her curly hair, leaving the rest to tumble freely down past her shoulders in a thick auburn cascade. It was as good as she was going to get.

The two sisters slid on their matching navy spring coats before grabbing young Patrick, who was _very_ unhappy with the jacket, vest and suspenders that Bridget dressed him in, and made their way down to the first floor.

:o:o:o:o:o

The clicking noise of Bridget's simple nude colored heels echoed through the empty station as loud as her thrumming heartbeat, her eyes searched around until she noticed both Jack and Howard sitting out on the front porch.

"Wow." Jack scrambled to his feet as he opened up the screen door for the three of them. "You ladies look…uh, just…wow."

He didn't look too bad himself. In a light-grey wool three piece suit and maroon tie with his dark brown hair slicked neatly back, she hated to say it- but Jack Bondurant looked like a dashing young gentleman. It wasn't lost on Katie, who seemed to be staring at him as hard as he was at her.

"So it looks better than grimy overalls?" Katie said smiling coyly.

Jack grinned bashfully and stared down at his feet, "I'd say so."

A loud snort caught her attention and Bridget cast a sidelong glance at Howard as he took a big pull off a fresh jar of whiskey. He _hadn't_ exactly gone the way of a suit. In fact she was pretty sure that he was wearing the same thing he had on earlier in the day, with the exception of possibly a cleaner shirt; though when she looked up at his face she smiled when she noticed his…hair.

"Did you comb your hair just for us, Howard?" Bridget needled with a playful elbow to his arm.

He shook his head with a self-conscious laugh, and unlike his usual biting sarcasm, this time his smile was genuine. "Nah, come on now."

"We ready to go, then?"

Forrest's low voice interrupted them and Bridget's eyes found his immediately. He took her in for a beat or two with his stormy grey gaze before putting his hat on and jamming his hands deep into the pockets of his now dark brown sweater. She noticed that he had changed his shirt from earlier too; it was a dark olive green that brought out the color of his eyes. His head tilted out towards the old truck, and thanks to Jack's diligent work this morning, Bridget's recently repaired vehicle; he spoke to the cars instead of her. "You can just follow us to town, but park out front. We'll be commin' round the back."

Bridget nodded with a quick smile and they made their way to the cars.

:o:o:o:o:o

It seemed like the entire County turned up. Bridget parked her car off to the side of the road on Main Street and got out, making sure to take Patrick's hand as she maneuvered her way through the crowd towards the large wooden building. It was an actual barn dance in the most literal sense; it looked like the old meeting house had been used as a stable not long ago. The rough wooden floor boards were well worn from both foot and horse traffic, and huge bales of hay were placed against the walls as makeshift seating. It was cozy though.

Katie tapped on her shoulder and pointed over to a rather dark corner and a staircase where she caught a glimpse of Jack's suit, Howard's tall form, and the unmistakable outline of a large wooden crate covered with a tan covered tarp resting behind them on the stairs. She watched for a moment as a steady stream of people meandered over to their location and after a few seconds of discreet discussion they were on their way again. No doubt with a barely concealed, illegal and intoxicating beverage in hand.

Suddenly she felt Patrick's small hand fall from her grasp. Bridget's head whipped around as she tried to follow the small boy through the mob. Panic rose up in her chest as she pushed through people, calling out his name above the loud chatter of the hall. Her eyes frantically darted back and forth until she finally caught sight of his wild blonde hair as he climbed his little body up onto a hay bale right next to where Forrest was standing against the wall, partially obscured by the shadows.

She quickly walked over and grabbed his elbow hard enough to get his attention, but plenty gentle enough that it wouldn't hurt before she scolded him. "You know better than to walk away from me in a room full of strangers, young man."

Patrick furrowed his brow and pointed insistently at Forrest, as if it was the simplest and most obvious explanation for his behavior. Bridget looked up and noticed that he was staring at them, his hands buried in his pockets as he puffed away on a cigar, and she had to fight both her mind and body as she was drawn to the way his full lips curled around it.

"Well, you didn't ask if it was alright to come sit near Mr. Bondurant, he might be too busy to watch you." She answered the boy, somewhat glad that the lecture helped to even out her thoughts. "I expect you to treat him with respect, he's a busy man and he doesn't have time for foolishness." Patrick's head hung low at the stern remarks and he nodded slowly before he moved to slide off the hay and return to her side.

"He's fine if he wants to sit."

Bridget stared up at Forrest as he exhaled a curl of smoke through his mouth, surprised at his answer.

"I figured I'd sit with him so he won't be a bother to you."

"Boy ain't a bother," he replied, his eyes moving away from her and focusing across the floor towards Howard and the crate. "He's more bearable than dealing with Jack's constant jammerin'."

"Well all the same, I'll stay." She answered quietly. She unbuttoned her coat and slid it off her shoulders, placing it on the hay so she could have a seat without ruining her dress. The little boy leaned over onto her shoulder immediately and pointed out to the center of the room where a lively little three piece band was just starting up a fast song.

:o:o:o:o:o

She had definitely picked a decent location to sit, from the far corner Bridget was able to watch the entire raucous crowd with relative anonymity and still keep her eyes peeled on Jack and Katie who seemed to be having a grand old time in the middle of the floor. Even when she lost her sister in the crowd she was still able to hear her loud, infectious laugh ringing out. She didn't even realize she was smiling at the sound alone. It had been a really long time since she'd heard her sister genuinely laugh and enjoy herself.

The music slowed to a companionable waltz tempo and Bridget was startled when a man stepped directly in front of her, it only took a second to recognize the scuffed up boots and brown trousers. "Now, I know a lady like you don't belong sittin' out a dance like this." Howard's voice had a definite note of laughter in it and she raised her head as he reached out his hand to her.

"I don't dance," She answered with a smile. "So I thank you, sir, for the kind invitation, but I am just fine where I am."

Howard laughed out loud at her answer. "Are you sure you ain't my stick-in-the-mud brother over there?" His hand remained palm up and open, hanging in her face, "I ain't goin' away 'till you dance just once with me."

Bridget shook her head and reluctantly took his hand, "If you step on my feet Howard, I'll get you. Patrick, stay right there and don't move." She turned her head to see that Forrest was staring directly at them both with a strange look in his grey eyes.

Howard led her out a few feet to an empty space on the floor and carefully took her in his arms; one taking hold of hers and the other gently resting on her waist just above her hip. She was genuinely surprised as he began to move in step with the music, it was almost perfect. Her eyes moved up to his face, noticing that his pale green eyes weren't as glazed over as they usually were, and his scruffy jaw was set hard- as if he was thinking about something.

"You dance very well," She said, leaning in so he could hear her over the music.

He shifted his eyes down to meet hers and a half smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I _was _real charming once upon a time ma'am. Woulda given Jack a run for his money." He stopped for a second and leaned down, putting his mouth right next to her ear as he pulled her closer to his body, "But I gotta confess I didn't ask you out here to charm ya."

Bridget blushed as she realized that she was completely pressed against him, she leaned her head back a bit in confusion. "What are you talkin' about?"

Howard laughed quietly and leaned his head down again, this time his mouth actually brushed against the shell of her ear; she could actually feel his smile. "I just couldn't resist pullin' you out here, holdin' you close and makin' that stubborn son-of-a-bitch jealous as hell for my own amusement."

She wanted to play dumb and pretend like she had no idea who he was talking about, but the heat that instantly suffused her neck and painted her skin bright red sold her out. "Oh, well…I…you shouldn't tease Forrest like that, Howard." It was all she could manage to reply.

The music slowed to a stop and he pulled away from her with a huge grin, his green eyes dancing as he answered her, "Who said anything about Forrest now? I don't remember sayin' a name."

A faster song started up, something to the beat of a quick-step and Bridget rolled her eyes and huffed loudly, ignoring his leading question. "Well, Bondurant, are you gonna dance with me or what?"

:o:o:o:o:o:o

And dance with her he did.

Bridget's heart was pounding from the exertion and a light sheet of sweat glistened on her face as Howard somehow managed to twirl and spin her all around the dance floor with precision. Seeing the normally grouchy man with a smile on his face, laughing out loud like he didn't have a care in the world was enough to lift her mood as well. He suddenly caught her off guard and dipped her low; the unexpected disorientation had her first squeaking out with alarm and then smiling.

She couldn't hold it in, Bridget let her hands come up to rest on his arms as he righted her and her head fell back with an unadulterated laugh. She could feel her face ache from the stretch of her smile and she couldn't stop the way that her entire body felt light.

For the first time since she was a teenager she was smiling and dancing, truly _enjoying_ herself. She felt free and alive, and for just one small moment Bridget felt like a wide-eyed ten-year-old again, the same little girl who had a mother and father who loved her and dreams of getting out of this quiet corner of Virginia and finding her place in the big, wide world.

Letting the moment carry her away, she reached her arms around Howard and gave him a tight hug.

"Thank you." She whispered.

:o:o:o:o:o:o

Forrest didn't dance- at all.

It wasn't that he couldn't, or that he didn't know the steps, he just _didn't_ do it. Because dancing would have meant letting people put their eyes on him as he stood in a crowd acting like idiots while his attention was focused on something _other_ than his own well being, and that he just couldn't abide by. The last time he ignored his surroundings he was left gasping helplessly as a knife sawed across his throat. No one would get the better of him again.

But watching Howard twirl Bridget around the floor was making him seriously consider changing his entire thought on the matter.

Although right now he was just as likely to bash his brother in the teeth for parading her around in front of him like she was on display. Not to mention the fact that Howard had left Jack in charge of the product while he took to the floor like Fred Astaire, and with the way his younger brother was mooning over the little blonde doll all night he was lucky if his entire case of whiskey wasn't swiped right out from underneath him.

The cheeky little grin Howard fixed him with as he purposely pulled her tight against his body had almost been the last straw. His older brother had seen right through the mask of indifference he'd tried to show at the station when she walked out the door, and again when she slid off her jacket and daintily perched herself on the closest hay bale.

Forrest took another puff off of the cigar in his mouth and threaded his fingers through the iron knuckles in his pocket, squeezing them tight to keep his mind from thinking about what she looked like in that navy blue dress. It was obviously designed to be a simple little frock that a lady wore from time to time, never intending to be anything worth more than a passing glance; but the way she wore it damn near gave him a heart attack. The gauzy fabric dipped low on her chest, showing an expanse of pale skin that was driving him insane as the night wore on, and it clung to her hips and her rear end in a way that drew entirely too much attention to the curves and swells.

And her mouth…she'd painted her damn lips _red_.

A sweet note of joyful mirth caught his ear and he looked up just in time to catch Howard dipping her backwards and to see her laughing. Bridget was completely natural in the way her neck arched back and her mouth opened in a smile, the thick curls of her loose hair fell free and moved with her in a wave. He was completely enraptured, like she was some sort of siren and he was powerless.

His eyes caught a single bead of glistening sweat and watched as it trailed down the column of her throat, journeying across her chest before disappearing into the deep valley between her breasts. The blood roared in his ears and seemed to instantly surge from every one of his limbs as it rushed to collect between his legs. He took a sharp breath through his nose as he felt himself harden and he couldn't tear his eyes from her.

She looked back. Bridget opened up her sparkling blue eyes, completely free of the stress and burden she always carried and stared right at him; the ghost of her smile still gracing her lips. And for the first time since she showed up on his doorstep almost a week ago, he didn't look away from her. Their eyes met for a long pause, and he knew that just as easily as he could read her face- she could read his. There was no doubt of what he was thinking about.

He was no longer looking at her like an employee, a tenant, or even the granddaughter of a man he'd considered a friend; no, right now he was looking at her in the way a man looks at a woman that he wants for himself.

"I'm sure it ain't that long."

Forrest was stunned out of his trance by the craggy, low voice of none other than Mary Lou Burkett. He cleared his throat and took off his hat, for once very glad that courtesy allowed him a way to cover himself. "Evenin' Mrs. Burkett."

"Good evenin' to you too Forrest." She answered as she took a couple hobbling steps closer to him before she sat down, to his great displeasure, on the same hay bale Bridget had been sitting on ten minutes earlier.

"Now," she said, letting her black glasses slide down her sharp nose, "again, I say, I'm sure what you got between your legs ain't long enough to reach her from here."

Forrest almost spit out his lit cigar at her forwardness, "Umm…now…I…uhh…I ain't sure I know what you mean, ma'am."

"I mean, why is it that you are lettin' Howard of all people hold her like that while you're standin' over here lookin' like you are about to burst your trousers? That should be you out there with her pressed up nice and tight."

He chewed his lip absently, wishing somehow, someway he could get the hell out of this with his pride still intact. "I don't dance." It was all he had to say.

"Well that's a problem, 'cause women like a husband who dances." She answered matter-of-fact. "Let's us know he can move the right way."

It was too much. He had to get out of there- _immediately_.

"Uhh, I gotta go check up on some business, now. Good evenin' Mrs. Burkett." Forrest grabbed Bridget's coat from beside her and nodded to the little boy who was watching him with complete fascination. "Come on now…Patrick. Umm, let's go."

Patrick waived to the old woman as he slid off the bale and walked over to Forrest, holding up his small hand. He stared down at the boy and hesitated for a second before he reached down with a very, very gentle grip and took his hand in his, leading him across the room towards the stairs - hopefully for a little goddamn peace and quiet.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget was still smiling and laughing two hours later when she pulled into the darkened driveway of Blackwater Station. It had been a wonderful evening after all. She'd danced the entire night with Howard, Jack or little Patrick, when his adorable pout let her know that he felt left out of her attention. But she had been genuinely surprised the first time she walked off the dance floor to find that Forrest had moved all the way across the room, taking her nephew and her coat with him.

Though it only took a quick eye to see the reason for his relocation; she'd waived to Mary Lou with a very polite smile and quickly made herself scarce.

"I wonder what the old woman said to Forrest to make him run off." Katie asked as Bridget shut the car off.

"I have no idea. Though remind me next time, I think it's high time she met you, my dear."

Katie made a face and waved her hands, "No, no. I think it is just fine that she doesn't know me from a hole in the wall. Besides it is much more fun to hear someone raggin' on the two of you."

"There is no 'two of us' and I wish people would stop sayin' things like that." Bridget mumbled, fiddling with the hem of her coat and picking at a piece of loose thread. "It's silly anyhow. I work for the man."

"What does that have to do with anything?" She asked.

"He doesn't talk to me." Bridget said, closing her eyes. She couldn't believe she was actually having this conversation with her baby sister. Furthermore, when did she start caring if Forrest Bondurant talked to her or not?

"He doesn't talk to anyone. He _looks_ at you though, all the time."

"That doesn't mean anything."

Bridget could feel her cheeks getting red at the memory of meeting his eyes from across the room when she'd been dancing with Howard. She'd been smiling and was so relaxed that she found herself searching him out with no regard for her nerves or embarrassment. But when she finally saw his grey eyes she was shocked with what she found in that hard stare. It was dark and hungry- and there was no mistaking what he wanted.

She took a deep breath to calm back down as she opened the car door. "Come on now, let's go on inside. They'll be back up here in a few minutes and I want to get dessert and coffee ready."

Katie nodded with a smile, reaching for Patrick. "Oh my yes, after all of that dancin' I am _starving_."

Bridget stood up and shut her door; her head was down as she tucked her car keys into the pocket of her coat. She was so distracted she didn't notice the three large shadows that moved down from the porch until it was too late.

"Well now, look what we have here. All painted up as pretty as a picture. I told you when I saw you in town the other day that I'd come visit you up here, honey…real nice of _Mister_ Bondurant to leave you all alone so we could talk proper."


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Just a couple of notes, I just wanted to say that I _love_ the fact that people have told me they love Mrs. Burkett. She's based off of my Memere who is turning 90 this year, we've been chit-chatting lately quite a bit, mostly due to the fact that my Grandfather passed last year and this July will be her first wedding anniversary without him...it would have been 70 years. I am in awe of that. So she's been reminiscing a lot about when they met (1936) and it has been so incredibly inspiring.**

**Anyhow...this Chapter is a little intense. Language, violence and a bit of suggestive dialogue regarding sexual assault. Personally I don't think it's graphic, but I want to throw it out there in case.**

**Please read and review...please, I'm dyin' here :)! Nothing makes a writer more inspired! **

**Also I am sending this out without a crazy edit...but it just needs to get out there...so I may go in and revise if necessary...enjoy!**

* * *

_"Well now, look what we have here. All painted up as pretty as a picture. I told you when I saw you in town the other day that I'd come visit you up here, honey…real nice of __Mister__ Bondurant to leave you all alone so we could talk proper."_

An icy chill of complete terror gripped her entire body. Bridget lifted up her head to see the same three drunken drifters she'd seen at the boarding house the other morning walk off of the porch and into the light of the single bulb that illuminated the gas pumps. She could smell the whiskey on them from where she was standing, and she knew that if she didn't keep it together something was going to happen to her baby sister and she would never be able to live with herself. She'd spent her entire life being the protector- and it wouldn't stop now.

"Katherine, get in the car with Patrick and lock the doors," Her voice was a desperate whisper, even as she tried to stay calm, and she didn't turn around. "Don't move no matter what happens." She heard Katie start to cry, but blessedly the next noise was the scrambling metallic squeak and slam of the old Ford's door.

A dark, sinister smile slowly slid across the first man's face, revealing a mouthful of dirty yellowing teeth. "Come on now, honey, we ain't gonna hurt ya. I promise. I got somethin' for ya that's gonna feel _real_ good."

Bridget's eyes darted around frantically as she scanned the quiet darkness that surrounded the station. Forrest told her that he was stopping with Jack and Howard to drop off the remainder of their product and make a quick sale; he said he would be only a few minutes behind them. She couldn't stop the tears that filled her eyes as her mind cried out a frantic plea that she prayed that he could hear. _"Oh God, please hurry!"_

The men kept coming towards her and Bridget's hands involuntarily curled into fists as she stepped back, the unforgiving metal of the car door stopping her. He leaned his hand against the window and effectively pinned her in place as he brought his face within an inch of hers. "Now, you're gonna keep nice and quiet aren't ya?"

Her skin crawled and she nearly gagged at the disgusting smell of stale alcohol hung on his hot breath. His grimy hand suddenly came up and grabbed her chest through the thin fabric of her coat, squeezing the tender flesh of her breast with a low moan of approval. Bridget jerked away and slapped his hand, trying desperately to squirm away from his face. He only laughed in her face, pushing his hips into hers so she could feel the repulsive evidence of his arousal before he ground it against her roughly.

"You better get the hell out of here right now," She hissed through clenched teeth, trying to mask the fear and revulsion that wracked her body. "Forrest will be back here any minute and if he sees you touching me he's gonna..."

"What's he gonna do, honey, huh?" He growled, reaching into his coat and pulling out a switchblade knife. The blade snapped out and whipped into her face, the sharp point grazing against her cheek, "He ain't gonna do shit." He traced the blade down her cheek, across her lips and down the front of her neck before he started to cut at the buttons of her coat. "'Cause it's only gonna take me a minute to cut you out of that pretty lil' dress, bend you over and fuck you good and proper."

He grabbed her chin hard, wrenching her head to the side and pressing his mouth to her ear, whispering with maniacal glee, "Then I'm gonna slit your throat like a pig and let you watch while all three of us take turns climbin' on that pretty little blonde and riding that sweet thing 'till she screams."

Bridget couldn't contain the shaking sob of panic that fell from her lips at his words, this couldn't be happening. He tore open her jacket and she froze as his hand grabbed the neckline of her dress. The blade sliced through the satin like it was butter, and then she felt his filthy, rough fingers as he parted the fabric, pulled her bra aside and pawed at her exposed chest. Her eyes slid closed as fat tears began to spill down her cheeks and a wave of nausea sent bitter bile rising into her throat, this was going to happen, she was going to die and there would be no one to save Katie from the same fate.

The thought of her sister being violated by this pathetic excuse for a man was all she needed to snap out of it. If she was going to end up bleeding out, curled up in the darkness- she was going to go down fighting.

Bridget opened her eyes and took a deep breath, letting her mind calm down before she threw all of her weight forward and pushed him off balance. The knife dropped to the ground and she saw the only chance she was going to get; in a smooth motion Bridget brought her hands up, grabbed his shoulders and drove her knee into his groin hard enough to crack against his pelvic bone. He crumpled to the dirt with a pained yell, and she only had a second to react as one of the other men snatched at the collar of her coat, pulling her backwards and slamming her into the car.

Her head cracked against the door frame hard and stars bloomed across her vision, leaving her disoriented for a moment. Bridget blinked shaking her head as he dove at her, and she reacted on pure instinct, balling her hand into a tight fist and using all of her weight to throw a punch into his face. It landed with a sickening crack and he stumbled back a few steps before wiping the back of his hand across his face. He saw the blood from his split lip and stared at her with a look of pure rage in his red-rimmed eyes.

"You fuckin' whore!" He screamed winding up and viciously backhanding her. The strength of the blow sent her to her knees and Bridget felt herself blackout for a moment. She tried to stand up but her body refused.

Her arms and legs were shaking and she curled into a ball in anticipation of the kicks that were going to follow. It was something she was all too familiar with; there was nothing so assured as the fact that a coward would think nothing of kicking a woman when she was down. But as she tightened the muscles in her body instead of pain she heard _him_.

"What in the fuck you think your doin'!"

_Oh thank you, God! _

It was Forrest.

She barely had time to raise her ringing head before she saw him tear across the front of the station. It was like she was watching it in slow motion. His thick arm wound up and with a massive swing his fist landed into the face of the man standing over her with the sound of a thunder clap. He fell instantly and Bridget's eyes widened in shock as Forrest slipped his hand into his pocket and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt rearing back to hit him again, and this time when his hand crashed into his face instead of the smack of flesh she heard a dull _'clink'_. The drunk went limp and she picked up her head in time to see Howard wailing away on the third man, who had tried to run off.

He was yelling and screaming at him with a note of raging fury in her voice that she never would have expected from the normally quiet man.

Suddenly Bridget felt arms around her body and she stiffened with a whimper before she realized it was Jack. "Miss Bridget, are you alright?" His voice was panicked as he helped her to her feet. She could do nothing but nod and hold onto him as she felt tears of relief begin to fall from her eyes.

Jack tried to lead her around to the other side of the car when she noticed the first man that she'd kneed in the groin make a move on the ground, reaching for the blade that lay next to him and jumping to his feet and Forrest's exposed back.

"Forrest behind you! He's got a knife!" She screamed covering her mouth as Forrest whirled around just when the man sliced at his face. Somehow he managed to lean his head out of the way with a fluid grace that belied someone of his size, before countering with a left-handed jab to the man's stomach that doubled him over before planting his iron knuckles in his forehead.

The fight was over before it began and Bridget was left in a wash of adrenaline and panic as Forrest stalked over to her, taking one look in her wide, glazed eyes before placing her arm over his shoulder and gently crouching down to lift her into his arms. She was safe. Surrounded by the warmth and solid strength of his body she finally broke down, burying her face into the neck of his sweater as she clutched onto him for dear life and let the tears and sobs wrack her body. Over the terrible racket she was making she heard him talk to Jack quietly.

"Get Katie and the boy, bring them inside." He paused for a minute and she felt his arms tighten around her. His voice dropped to dark whisper and Bridget could feel the vibrations in his chest as he growled.

"Howard, I'm gonna take her inside now. If these fuckin' coward sons-of-bitches don't run off in ten minutes put an axe in their fuckin' skulls."

He turned toward the station and climbed the stairs, somehow managing to lightly put her down before unlocking the door, turning on the light and taking her into his arms again without missing a beat.

:o:o:o:o:o

"Don't move I'll be right back."

Bridget's head pounded as Forrest set her down at one of the tables, pulling out a chair and effectively sitting her down in it like a child. His voice was the same quiet tone that she'd come to associate with him, but barely concealed beneath it was a wavering note of the rage and violence she'd just witnessed. She wasn't a fool; she knew a man in his type of business would have to resort to throwing his fists around from time to time, but what she'd just seen made her question him again. He doled out brutality to those men on an almost savage level, and she openly wondered if was for her.

Did he hurt them like that because they tried to hurt her?

Forrest reappeared a minute later with a cool, wet towel and a small case that looked like some sort of first aid kit. He put it down on the table and stood directly in front of her, lifting up her chin with the crook of his finger and tilting it to look at the cheek that had been struck. Bridget winced as he touched her and he immediately drew his hand back, his grey eyes softening. "I won't hurt you. I'll let you rest a minute, and then I gotta make sure nothing' is broken."

Bridget nodded dumbly and took the damp cloth, wiping around her eyes to clean up the makeup that had been smudged by her tears. She had to look like an absolute wreck.

Moments later the door to the station burst open as a hysterical Katie came running in; Jack was close on her heels cradling a crying Patrick in his arms. The little boy practically jumped into her lap as her sister's arms came around her in a suffocating hug.

"I thought I was going to lose you!" Katie wailed in a pitiful sob.

Bridget tried to hold them both as tight as possible, as she fought her own tears back. "It's alright, now. I am just fine." She pulled away and kissed both of their faces. "Katie, why don't you take him upstairs, wash him up and get him in bed please. I'll be along shortly." Katie nodded as she gave her another squeeze with her arms.

"I'll help." Jack offered quietly.

"Thanks, Jack." Bridget tried to smile as she reached out to pat him on the arm. "You are a good man."

The three of them walked away and the minute they were up the stairs, she felt her tears return. This time she was able to keep herself calm, but the tears rolled down her cheeks anyway. Forrest didn't say anything, waiting for her to collect herself before looking up at her again.

"Did he hit you anywhere other than your face?" He questioned, pulling his seat closer to hers so he could lean across and see her injuries better.

"I don't think so," Bridget whispered, her emotions choking her voice. "Bastard back handed me."

Forrest nodded as he reached out slowly to tilt up her chin with one hand, while he brought the other one up to brush her cheek gently with his fingers. He gingerly touched the reddened skin, putting the slightest pressure along the high point of her cheek bone and mapping out her face. Bridget inhaled sharply through her nose and closed her eyes; the throb of pain across her wound was strong, but bearable and she slowly relaxed into his grip.

She swallowed hard as her skin suddenly began to register something other than the sting, his rough and calloused fingers were almost unconsciously stroking along the underside of her chin and it sent a wave of chills racing down her spine. Her eyes opened slowly and she noticed that he'd brought his face close to hers; he was absently chewing on his bottom lip as his sharp gaze was focused with intensity.

The grey orbs flickered over to hers the instant he saw her looking at him and he leaned back in his chair, putting distance between them. "Seems fine, should just be a nasty bruise in the mornin'." His voice was a grunting whisper, "Anythin' else hurt?"

"My hand," Bridget answered for some reason feeling embarrassed about her aggressive actions. "I punched one of them in the jaw, but I didn't plant my feet right."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he reached out to grab onto the hand that she offered up. His fingers resumed their gentle prodding as he touched the bones in her wrist and also the side of her hand. "That hurt like it's broke?"

"A little to be honest…but I have no idea what a broken hand feels like. It's manageable, hurts less than my face does."

"Probably ain't broke then," he replied with a nod, "if it was you'd know it."

Forrest took a deep breath and stared down at the hand he was still touching. "Who taught you how to throw a punch?"

Bridget laughed quietly, her eyes falling on his hands as well, noticing for the first time that the fingers on his right hand were damaged and crooked; most likely due to ignoring the same injury that he was examining on her. "My daddy moonlighted as a bare-knuckle boxer, taught me how to throw a punch when I was ten." She sighed as the bad memories came back to her with a vengeance, "About the same time he taught me how to take one."

His fingers instantly stilled at the nonchalant admission, and she looked up to see the storm of emotion that played behind his eyes. "Don't worry about it," she assured him, "he was a mean drunk, Forrest, it's why I didn't want Katie anywhere near it when we came here. I kept it from her growin' up, and I don't want her seein' it now. One of us deserves to be innocent about the darkness in this world."

She couldn't believe that she said all that. Bridget rolled her eyes at her own foolishness, this man just saved her life and now she was making him listen to her troubles too. She went to dismiss herself when suddenly she noticed a dark stain on the collar of his shirt; upon further inspection she realized that he was bleeding from a rather decent gash in his earlobe.

It must have been from the knife that man had swung at his head.

"You're bleeding!" She gasped as she quickly leaned over to take a better look at the wound. Bridget reached into the first aid kit and grabbed a bit of clean cloth to wipe it off. Her maternal instinct took over as she dabbed at it, inspecting the cut closely. Noticing that it seemed to be neatly cut away, hopefully that would mean a clean scab. In fact she was so lost in her own world that she didn't recognize that she was literally leaning over his lap, with one hand resting on his shoulder, until she felt the puff of his breath tickling her chest.

The air against her skin instantly made her freeze in place. She came out of her trance and realized that she had unwittingly shoved her cleavage into his face, and thanks to the brute outside there was nothing left between his nose and the mounds of flesh left exposed by her bra. Bridget swallowed hard as she noticed that he was completely still, his back ram-rod straight. At first she was worried that he was repulsed by the impropriety of the situation. But then she realized just how fast he was breathing, the pants of warm air were coming faster and faster.

She leaned back slightly and looked at his face. His eyes were tightly squeezed shut and his jaw was clenched hard enough that she could see the muscle working beneath the scruffiness of his beard. Bridget reached up with a hesitant hand to touch his face to make sure that he was alright.

"Forrest?" Her voice was nothing more than a breathless whisper. At the mere contact of her fingertips his eyes snapped open and he lifted his them to stare into hers. Her fingers played along his cheek, trying to get him to relax as she continued to look at him.

It was back, the same hungry gaze that had taken her in from across the dance floor was boring into her again, and once again she refused to look away. Instinct took over, her heart was pounding from nerves and left over adrenaline from the attack and it overrode any sort of rational thought from her brain that screamed out that what she was doing was completely inappropriate. Her eyes fell to his thick lips, still moist with saliva from where he'd been chewing on them earlier and she felt herself lean in only the barest of distances as she let her lids slide closed. Not knowing what to expect from him.

Nothing could have prepared her for what happened.

He reached up and grabbed her shoulders, gently taking them and guiding her backwards into her seat before quickly standing up and turning away. "Umm, you need to rest now, been a long night."

Bridget was left sitting in her seat completely confused about the entire situation. Her head hurt from being hit, but for some reason the way Forrest walked away from her felt no different than if he had slapped her across the face himself. What had she expected? What did she want? She shook her head and watched as he started to walk back towards the seclusion of his back office, and something inside her snapped. The carefully structured walls that she'd built around her emotions and feelings suddenly seemed frivolous and absolutely ridiculous. Not ten minutes ago she'd had a knife pressed up against her throat and was faced with the very real prospect of having her life taken away from her.

And this man had saved her.

The very breath that she was enjoying at this moment was only possible because of him, and then she was on her feet, quickly walking over. Bridget reached out with her good hand and gently took his elbow, pulling on it with a firm tug to get his attention. Forrest stopped mid-step and turned with a puzzled look on his face, she didn't give either of them a chance to think. Before he could react she closed her eyes, leaned in and pressed her lips against his.

A small flutter raced through her stomach at the realization that his mouth felt as soft as it looked, and it was absolutely incredible. But as the seconds ticked by she realized that he wasn't responding _at all_ to her advance. His mouth was fixed in a hard line, completely motionless. Bridget pulled away abruptly and began to stammer out an apology, her eyes immediately fell to the floor and her face flushed bright red, "I…I'm sorry…I…I didn't…"

Forrest suddenly reached out to cup the side of her face in his large, warm palm, lifting it up and fixing her with an almost desperate stare. Bridget went silent, trembling under the scrutiny as his sharp grey eyes darted back and forth, finally flicking down to her mouth for a heartbeat before he leaned in and claimed her lips with his. Her hands instinctively rose into the air in surprise and alarm before she relaxed into him, grabbing onto the front of his sweater and pulling him close as her eyes slid closed. His kiss was bold, utterly masculine, and full of power and dominance yet somehow it still managed to be reserved and gentle. She wouldn't have expected anything less from the enigma of a man in front of her.

His mouth was heavenly, the soft plump pillow of his lips contrasted with the rough scrape of his beard against her face and Bridget couldn't help but moan softly as she tried to open her mouth and take in more of him. A rush of molten heat scorched through her body, surging through her veins and suffusing her skin with a wash of unbearable arousal; suddenly she was consumed with a singular thought- she _needed_ to know if he tasted as delicious as he smelled.

Her lips parted and her tongue tentatively reached out to touch the seam of his when the loud crash of the screen door slamming open behind them instantly shattered the moment and brought reality crashing down. Forrest pulled away and quickly stepped around her, shielding with her with his body while Bridget clung desperately to his back. The arousal screaming in her body turned to panic. They both tensed and instantly relaxed when Howard's tall form stepped into the dim light.

He froze when he saw them huddling together in the corner, "She alright?"

"Yeah, she's gonna be just fine."

Howard stormed around the bar and pulled out a double barreled shotgun from between the cupboards, breaking it open to check it was loaded before snapping it shut again. "I'm gonna sit out on the porch tonight. Those fuckin' shits took off, but not before I let 'em know we'd be callin' on them tomorrow- so they'd best disappear from Franklin County by then if they wanted their nuts attached."

Bridget cringed at the menacing look in his eyes. How could this be the same man that was laughing and dancing with her only a few hours ago?

Forrest stepped away and turned around, his eyes avoiding hers once again when he spoke in a low rumble. "Go on to bed now, Bridget. I want you to go ahead and rest tomorrow. Don't need you workin' the bar or preparin' meals."

Her body and mind were completely overwhelmed with everything that assailed it; a mixture of fear, pain, rejection and interrupted passion left her absolutely exhausted. Bridget didn't know what to say to him, and she couldn't _begin_ to sort through what had just happened. So she simply nodded mutely and turned to walk up the stairs, the only feelings that registered was the pain that came from her injuries and the undeniable pleasure that still tingled on her lips.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: So after all that craziness I needed some sweetness...I'm warnin' you...fluffs...**

**Thanks so much for the reviews...means a bunch... : )**

* * *

Katie was _not_ a morning person, never had been.

In fact it was her sister's favorite thing to nag her incessantly about- well one of them anyway. Bridget was very fond of reminding her that a good woman was expected to rise with the sun every morning and have a hearty meal on the table for her husband so he could begin his day properly.

It wasn't that she disagreed with the idea; she was more inclined than anyone to jump on a good breakfast first thing, but she wasn't exactly convinced that you needed to do it before five thirty in the damn morning.

This _particular_ morning though she woke up without any prodding from her sister. When the sun rose and crept through the window at the foot of their bed her eyes opened, and suddenly the memories of last night came screaming back, replaying in her mind over and over like some sort of terrible movie. How the night could have gone from something as amazing and fun as the dance to the horror later at the station she couldn't put her thoughts around it.

Her eyes immediately went over to Bridget's face and when she saw the angry, purple bruise that was left on her cheek from that awful man hitting her, the tears came back to her again. Katie's chest tightened to the point that she couldn't breathe and she was unable to stop her hands from trembling as she covered her mouth and cried. For a terrible minute last night she was faced with the petrifying notion that the Lord Almighty saw fit in his plans to take her other sister away too and leave her all alone.

But she'd been spared, saved by three men that she would look on from this day forward and for the rest of her life as if they were angels sent from heaven. Katie_ knew_ there was a reason she looked out of the car window all those days ago to see the sign on the side of the road; they were meant to come here to Blackwater Station, and that meant fate wanted them to find the Bondurants. And that was a very pleasant and comforting thought to start the day with.

She wiped her eyes dry, sat up on the bed gently and looked over at Patrick. He'd practically wound himself completely around Bridget, and even though he was wide awake he seemed perfectly content to remain absolutely still and gently curl a strand of her long, auburn hair around his finger over and over again as he stared at her sleeping face with his big, blue eyes.

Katie reached over to carefully rub his shoulder and let him know that she was awake. "Time to get up, sweetie." She whispered, purposely keeping her voice down, "Come on, let's leave her to rest, I'll make you some breakfast."

He nodded and slid out of her arms, wiggling down to the end of the bed and walking over to the trunk to get his own clothes ready for the day.

She followed a second later, crawling off the bed and standing up, reaching her arms over her head to stretch her tiny body with a wide yawn. From behind her she could hear the rustling of sheets and she turned around just in time to see Bridget standing up.

"Oh, ho, ho, no you don't," Katie said pointing a stern finger at her visibly exhausted sister. "Forrest told me last night that you are to stay in bed today."

Bridget scrunched her nose up and pushed her loose hair out of her face, a frown settled on her lips. "Well Forrest isn't my keeper and I am a grown woman so I'll do what I please."

Katie knew she wouldn't get very far with an argument, so she used the only thing she knew she'd always have over her. She sighed and walked over to the bed, kneeling down and resting her arms on Bridget's knees. She looked up at her sister with her saddest baby-blue stare. "I almost lost you last night and I don't want you to get sick. Please just rest; I can do all the cooking and cleaning. I promise I'll stay away from the bar too. Please?"

It only took a moment for her sister's face to soften, her tired red eyes slid closed as she nodded, "Alright, I'll sleep in for a little while."

"Okay." She said with a small laugh, standing up and walking to the trunk to grab her simple light-blue cotton dress. "I'll bring you up something to eat soon."

"Just plain toast and hot water please," Bridget said through a sighing yawn. Katie dressed herself and walked back over to the bed with Patrick close behind. They both bent over to plant a kiss on her face before walking out the door.

Her sleepy voice carried through the air and met Katie's ears just as she closed the door, "Behave today, Katherine."

:o:o:o:o:o

Alright, so maybe she didn't give her sister enough credit for all the work she did.

Almost an hour after she woke up she was covered in flour and exhausted as she hefted a huge plate of biscuits and sausage gravy and brought it over to the table. She sat down and waited as Forrest reached out to take a bit for himself before serving the rest of the small table. Howard and Bridget were both missing and it seemed so empty without them. She felt a little foolish about it, but she'd begun to think of their little group as a family.

"Where's Howard?" Katie asked quietly as she helped Patrick situate himself.

Forrest didn't say anything; his head was hung down low, buried in his books as he furiously scribbled away. She was surprised to notice dark, heavy circles underneath his eyes and she was pretty sure he was still wearing the same clothes that he was in the previous evening. Did he sleep at all last night?

"He's sleepin' for a bit in my room," Jack finally answered her in an equally hushed voice. "Him and Forrest stayed up all night makin' sure those fu-, uh… those men stayed away."

A rush of tingling cold raced down her spine and she clenched onto her fork tightly, trying to forget about those three disgusting men touching her sister. She felt powerless watching it happen, no different than when she'd been a little girl and saw Bridget take a beating at their father's hands, and in the same breath she vowed that it would never happen again. She would _never_ be helpless or a victim at a man's hands. The next person that tried to hurt her family she'd personally take them down, the hell with being small.

"Remind me to make him a plate," was all she managed to say.

Forrest suddenly looked up and caught Katie's eyes with an expectant stare, his voice a gravelly rumble, "You make coffee this mornin'?"

Her mouth dropped open when she realized her mistake. "Oh no, I didn't!"

She jumped up right away like she was on fire and raced behind the bar to grab the percolator and get the water going. A few minutes of nervous tapping later she grabbed him an empty mug and ran back to the table, pouring out the streaming hot liquid. "I'm so sorry, Forrest."

"It's fine," He mumbled.

Katie watched as he picked up the cup and took a sniff before sipping it slowly and immediately putting it back down on the table. She scrunched her face and she knew right away he didn't like it as much as Bridget's, and if his half full plate was any indication he wasn't all that into her food either. But somehow instead of feeling insulted at his behavior a funny little tingle of happiness danced in her belly- he liked the way her sister took care of him.

"Don't forget to take Bridget up somethin' to eat, now," Forrest suddenly added as he took another small sip of coffee, his eyes staring down at his ledger again. "And make sure she's comfortable, she might need aspirin or a cold cloth for her head."

Katie couldn't stop the huge smile that split her face from ear to ear. He didn't just like the way that her sister made his meals and his coffee, it was quite clear that Forrest liked her _sister_. Now this was interesting, indeed.

"Of course," She answered.

:o:o:o:o:o

It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining bright and it was unseasonably hot for the last week of April; Katie sighed as she finished hanging out the last of the laundry on the clothes lines. Her chores were already done, she'd made lunch, washed and mended clothes and without the extra responsibility of waiting tables inside the station she was running out of things to do. Even dinner wouldn't need to be started for at least another three hours.

A breeze kicked up and she closed her eyes to take in the sweet smell, enjoying the rustle of the leaves and the chorus of birds that sang loudly around her. It really was such a nice day, far too nice to stand around the inside of the station all day and stare at tables of old men chugging on jars of corn. Almost as if reading her mind, she heard the backdoor of the station creak open and Jack bounded down the stairs with his bright hazel eyes focused right on her.

"Hey, Katie," He greeted her in a playful tone as a dimpled formed in his cheek. "Whatcha doin'?"

She arched an eyebrow as he leaned casually on the rope line, fixing her with a devilish smile. "What does it look like I'm doin', Jack? I certainly ain't workin' through mathematical equations with a laundry basket in my hand."

He laughed out loud at her peculiar answer but pressed on. "Whatcha doin' after this?"

"Starin' at the walls and waitin' around to make a dinner that your brother won't like."

"Aww, come on, your breakfast was a million times better than anythin' we'd have been eatin' a week ago." Jack said reaching over slowly to grab the puff of a seed out of her blonde hair, his hand gently touching her cheek as he pulled his fingers away. "Don't take it personal, Forrest is real picky about his food. He never likes anythin' he don't make himself."

"He eats my sister's food just fine."

"Yeah that don't count though, I got a feelin' he wouldn't turn down much she offered him."

Katie bit her lip thoughtfully at the joke, but she couldn't stop her mind from wandering off towards the darkness they'd seen last night. "He saved her life." She couldn't stop the way her voice dropped to a sad whisper, "I almost lost her and he… _saved_ her."

His smile instantly fell and he reached out to grab her and pull her into a hug. Katie instantly relaxed into his arms, the same way she had in the barn a couple days ago and again last night when she'd put Patrick to bed and Jack had been there to stand in the hallway and hold her close as she cried. They'd hugged until her tears had dried up and she heard Bridget finally walking up the stairs. Katie let her arms come up to rub the soft fabric of his cotton shirt as her face pressed up against his chest. She took a deep breath and smiled as the slight smell of tobacco from the occasional cigarette he smoked and a more pungent detergent aroma from the lava soap that he used to scrub the motor oil and grease off his body filtered into her nose. It instantly comforted her, he smelled like some place safe- like home.

She smiled as she felt his lips rest on the top of her head and he mumbled against the top of her hair. "Let's get the hell outta here and take a drive."

Katie pulled back and stared up into his eyes, "What about Patrick?"

"He's sittin' inside with Forrest fine as can be. Come on, let's go."

Her head raced with the implications of leaving without running it past Bridget. She knew that her sister wouldn't be happy, but a louder voice whispered to her that Bridget was asleep and what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. And it would be an absolute sin to waste an afternoon as beautiful as this.

And it was _Jack_.

"Okay." She answered with a small nod.

:o:o:o:o:o

The trees were flying past her in a blur and Katie's heart pounded in her chest as Jack roared down one of the winding county roads at a speed that was definitely not prudent or safe. She'd never been anywhere near a car that was as fast or as loud as the supped up V-8 roadster, and it was _incredible_.

Thanks to the open air of the convertible top, her long blonde hair had come mostly out of the loose braid and was whipping around them both like some sort of crazy halo. She shrieked and giggled as he took a particularly sharp corner and the inertia of the turn sent her sliding across the leather bench seat and into his side.

"Woah!" He laughed, shouting over the wind as he wound his arm over the top her thighs to reach for the gear shift and secure her to the seat. "Don't wanna loose ya before we get there!"

Katie smiled and leaned into his shoulder, her face getting red as she realized that his fingers were dangling free off the shifter and brushing against the bare skin of her knees a bit more than could be considered accidental.

"This is amazing!" She yelled so that he could hear, and he turned his head to glance over his shoulder at her with a huge smile on his face. "I feel like I'm flying!"

They drove around for a while before he pulled the car off onto a narrow path through the trees that looked like nothing more than a cart trail. The car bounced and jumped along as they made their way through the thick woods until they popped out on the back side of an open field. Jack stepped on the gas a bit and picked up speed as they parted through the tall grass, before finally coming to a huge grove of pine trees and the bank of a fast moving creek.

Jack turned off the engine and sat back as Katie tried to tame the wild mane of hair that their trip had left her with. She frowned as she caught sight of the disheveled mess in the rear-view mirror.

"I look like a crazy person," She grumbled as her fingers raked through the tangles and she braided it back up as best she could.

"No way," Jack said with a laugh as he took off his cap and smoothed down his own hair. "You always look like a movie star."

She blushed again and rolled her eyes, "I don't think Jean Harlow would appreciate the comparison, Jack."

He leaned back in his seat and turned to face her, throwing his arm over the back of her shoulder, "I know she wouldn't. 'Cause she's got nothin' on you."

Katie watched as a dusting of pink suddenly formed on his cheeks and the tops of his ears; his hazel eyes stared down and away as he finished talking. She looked away herself and realized the position that they were sitting in, she was practically in his lap in the front seat of his car, and they were all alone in the woods.

She slid away a few inches as he turned to the door and opened it, completely changing the subject. "Let's take a walk."

Jack surprised her as he took her hand to help her out of the car and kept hold of it, weaving their fingers together tightly. He gently led her by the arm into a really dense grove of Virginia Pines that towered over them. Katie couldn't help but stare down at her feet as she walked across the densely packet blanket of fallen needles, it was so soft it was like standing on a mattress. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her brain recognizing the damp earthy smell around her- but she couldn't place from just where.

He stopped walking on the shores of the creek and dropped her hand, before quickly bending over and tugging at the laces of his worn, brown boots. "Take your shoes off."

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Bondurant, but I am _not_ getting in that water without a swimsuit on."

Jack balanced on one foot as he took off his sock before repeating it on the other leg and rolling his pant legs up past his knees. "Geez, we ain't swimmin' woman, its April, water's freezin'."

The skeptical look she gave him made him a roll his eyes and he walked behind her to point over her shoulder to the middle of the creek. Katie strained her eyes to make out a sunny patch that was free of tree cover and in the center of the steady flow of water there was a raised flat rock about ten feet wide by ten feet tall.

"Oh, I see." She answered with a smile, kicking off her simple black leather flats. "You better make sure I don't fall in!"

:o:o:o:o:o

Jack was a perfect gentleman as he helped her walk through the strong current. The water only made it to just below his knees, but thanks to her less-than-statuesque height she was holding her dress up to her mid-thigh. His hands rested gently on her hips as he lifted her up onto the rock and climbed up after her.

Katie rubbed her wet legs as goosebumps bloomed across her skin thanks to the cool water. Thankfully despite the initial feeling of being nearly freezing, the sun had warmed the dark grey rock they were sitting on and she was comfortable only a minute later. Jack had already reclined back and lay with his hands behind his head staring up at the sky.

"Nice out here, huh?" He asked absently.

"Yeah, it really is." She answered as she leaned back and adopted a similar position.

"I used to come out here a lot with Cricket, good fishin'."

His voice took on an uncharacteristic note of melancholy that she'd never heard from him. Katie rolled over on her side and propped her head up on one hand so she was facing him. "Who's that?" She asked carefully, knowing that this story wasn't going to have a particularly happy ending.

Jack rolled over so he was mirroring her position; their faces were only a few inches apart. "He was my best friend. We grew up together, his parent's died of the lady flu same time mine did and all he had was his crazy old Aunt to watch after him, so he just stayed around the station all the time. We did everythin' together. Damn cop Rakes killed him for no good reason."

"I wish I could have met him," She said quietly.

His hazel eyes seemed to shine as tears began to collect in them; he sniffed absently and looked away as a laugh puffed out of his mouth. "He was _so_ smart, Katie. No one even knew it though; he had rickets as a kid so he wore these braces and walked kinda funny, everyone pegged him for a slow cripple. But he messed with the carburetor in my car, it's the reason it's so damn fast. Ain't _nobody_ that could work a car like Cricket." His smile suddenly blossomed and his eyes lit up, banishing the sadness of his friend's death. It reminded her of the way she thought about her memories of Mary; the pain of losing her was nothing in comparison to how much she loved her.

"We used to get into so much trouble. This one time last year, after Forrest got his throat cut, he was in the hospital and I took the key to his storage shed and cleaned him clear out of 'shine. The two of us loaded up the truck and I drove that goddamn thing straight to town and sold the whole load to Floyd Banner for_ twice_ what my brother usually gets."

Katie couldn't help but smile back at the enthusiastic way he was telling the story-that is until the words registered in her mind. Obviously after hanging around the station for a week and watching them at the dance it was pretty obvious that the Bondurants were bootleggers; she wasn't lying to Bridget when she said she'd figured it out. In fact she was kind of surprised Bridget hadn't caught on faster. It had taken all of five seconds looking at the money Forrest took in to know he didn't make it selling coffee and gasoline; but hearing that Jack did business with an honest to goodness Chicago gangster was a whole different ball of wax.

"_You_ sold moonshine to Mad Dog Floyd Banner."

"Sell," Jack corrected her with a waggle of his eyebrows. "He and I have a standin' arrangement. Every other month for whatever cases I can get 'em. We meet out on the edge of town."

"I see, so I'm dealin' with a big shot." She said pointing her finger into his shoulder and giving him a playful shove. "Sure your last name's Bondurant and not Capone?"

He playfully nudged her back, "That gonna get me more attention? 'Cause if so you can call me anythin' you want."

Katie rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say something when suddenly Jack leaned over to close the few inches between them and gently kissed her lips. He pulled away a second later and she felt as if someone had tossed her body into a scorching hot oven; heat and flush rushed from her head to her toes and she froze in place unable to respond.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his red-face matching her own, "I shouldn'ta done that."

Her eyes blinked rapidly at his apology, "Why not?" Her voice felt low and thick, like her throat was parched and she needed a drink.

Jack slowly lifted his hand to cup the side of her face as his thumb gently rubbed soothing circles onto her cheek, his hazel eyes seemed to darken into a more brown color. He licked his lips before he leaned in closer to her, a husky whisper falling from them. "'Cause I know if I start kissin' you I won't stop."

Katie felt her heart pound frantically as her head leaned in moving in so her lips were just barely brushing his, her eyes slid closed as she mumbled, "Who says I'll want you to."

It was all the confidence he needed, Jack quickly closed the rest of the distance and placed his lips on hers again. His kiss was soft and slow, and Katie couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at her mouth as he playfully nipped at her lower lip. It wasn't her first kiss, but it might as well have been. It was certainly the first one that made her feel like a woman and not a silly little girl. Her stomach fluttered with hot waves and literally felt like it was twisting into knots, but her heart almost stopped when she felt his tongue creep out from in between his lips and tease the seam of hers.

Katie's eyes flew open in alarm and closed again as Jack gently coaxed her mouth open with his and paused as if waiting for her to get comfortable. She took the cue and tentatively let her tongue come out to meet his, tangling with it slowly before retreating and allowing him dip into her mouth and meet hers again. They stayed like that for what seemed like ages, enjoying the simple slide and tingle of tasting each others mouths as the kiss grew in intensity. Finally starting to feel lightheaded from both lack of air and the way Jack was touching her Katie pulled her head away.

His eyes blinked open and she met his stare with a huge smile, chewing on the bottom lip that was plumped from his attentions, "Please tell me you aren't gonna get all shy on me after this Jack, 'cause I am definitely gonna want to be kissed like that regularly."

Jack shook his head with a laugh and smiled back at her, "Heck no, I'm gonna kiss you every chance I get."

"That's good," she said as she bit her lip, leaning back to take his lips again, "real good."

:o:o:o:o:o

They drove back to the station a couple hours later; Katie hoped and prayed that her sister hadn't woken up yet. She stared at herself in the car's mirror and desperately tried to fix her hair. It was mussed and windblown, and even though she could probably come up with a suitable excuse for the way it looked, there was no way that she could possibly explain away the plump, pink state of her lips. She followed Jack out of the garage and tried to be nonchalant as they stayed a few steps away from each other. He headed off towards the backdoor and she snuck around to the front door. Katie inwardly cringed when she saw Howard sitting on the porch sipping on a half-full jar of whiskey.

He took one look at her and a playful glint flashed through his pale green eyes, "Well, well you two out for a little drive?"

"Umm, yeah Jack took me out for a while, it was nice of him." Katie answered, talking to the ground and completely avoiding his face.

"That _was_ real nice of Jackie boy to do," He drawled. "Bet you two had a swell time."

Katie's couldn't fight the blush that completely took over her face. "Alright I am gonna start dinner."

She reached for the door and Howard's playful voice hit her ears, "You go and get my little brother shot by your sister and Forrest is gonna be awful sore, now."

* * *

**Now I wonder what the other two have been thinkin' about all day ; )**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: So I promised you I'd let you know what Forrest and Bridget were thinking...and originally it was going to play out much different, but then I got to daydreaming in the middle of a business meeting...and well, apparently my mind goes right for the gutter. : )**

**On that note, hope you enjoy ; ). Please leave a review...they make me smile...**

* * *

Forrest was in a piss-poor mood this morning- not that anyone in the station would have been able to tell that anything was out of the ordinary. His disposition was surly in the best of circumstances, but after spending the night wide awake, his body raging with a potent mixture of adrenaline and hormones he was just as likely to slip on his knuckles and crack the first person to talk to him in the mouth as he was to say "hello".

Thankfully his baby brother had instinctively deduced the way of things the moment he sat down at the table and saw fit to make himself scarce after breakfast. Forrest certainly wasn't prepared to deal with Jack and his mouth when he was sitting on his last nerve and it was fraying quickly. Although as he scribbled a few more liner notes in his ledger he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth when he looked up at the little blonde boy sitting next to him. Somehow Patrick had been next to him for the better part of three or four hours counting his little stones and hadn't irked him in the least.

It was a strange thing for sure. He didn't fancy himself to be the type of man who dealt well with children; they were loud, disorganized things that had no care for the routine and order that held his life together. Yet this one seemed to be content with remaining quiet and focused. Before he knew what he was doing, Forrest flipped to the back of his notebook, tore out a piece of blank paper and grabbed one of the spare pencils beside him handing them over to the boy so he'd have something to write on. And Patrick, true to why he liked him, merely took the pencil in his small hand and grabbed the paper with a silent nod, resuming his rock counting.

"Afternoon, little brother," Howard's craggy voice still full of sleep came floating over his shoulder a few minutes later. "I'm assumin' alls been quiet today."

Forrest grunted in acknowledgement and took a sip of his stone cold coffee, "Yeah; got a ham sandwich in the refrigerator if you want it."

Howard walked behind the bar and returned to the table a few minutes later with his lunch and a cup of coffee instead of his usual jar of whiskey. He tore into the sandwich, finishing half of it in little more than three bites. He chugged the strong brew in a couple of gulps and sat back in his chair fixing his eyes on him from across the table, "Ya look tired as a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest, Forrest; why don't you head upstairs and knock off for a couple hours."

He lifted an eyebrow at the stupid comment but he couldn't deny the truth behind the statement. He closed his books and stood up, "Alright then, I'm gonna go lay down for a bit. You make sure you watch him, don't need you drinkin' while you do it."

"Where's Katie?"

Forrest shrugged before fixing his older brother with a pointed stare, "Off playin' house with Jack I imagine. But I don't really care much about that, what I do care about is the fact that I asked you to do something and I trust you'll do it."

_Because one time you didn't and I paid for it. _

The sentiment went unspoken but was not lost between the two of them. Howard was supposed to have been with him the night Rakes' goons attacked him and slit his throat, but instead of making good on his word he was off on a bender getting drunk as a skunk. He had his little brother's blood on his hands, and from that moment on things had been irrevocably different between them.

Howard's green eyes narrowed and darkened for a moment before he looked back at him, "I will."

:o:o:o:o:o

Forrest climbed the stairs with slow, shuffling steps. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he noticed the air was becoming stifling on the second floor. It was getting warmer and warmer as the day went on; apparently summer was coming early this year. The heat was also a not so subtle reminder that his body was less than clean; in fact after sweating like a hog fist fighting and the cold sweat of being on edge afterwards he smelled downright disgusting. The cotton shirt he was wearing suddenly began to feel like it was made of rough, itchy wool and Forrest scratched his stomach uncomfortably, he needed to wash.

An aching twinge in his shoulder further confirmed that maybe a soak in the tub would be a decent way to take a nap and relax- at least no one would bother him.

That decided on he started to walk down the hallway, his mind wandering to the door to the spare room that was set on his right, and more specifically to the woman sleeping inside. He'd been too tired to deal with the entire situation last night, but now in the stark afternoon sunshine his mind was beginning to catalog and quantify what had happened and he felt as unnerved about what occurred outside as what happened later on.

Forrest's fist balled up at the memory of seeing those men standing over Bridget like a pack of goddamn wild dogs that were going to tear her apart. That foolish woman, instead of cowering like she had any common sense in her damn head she'd actually attacked them. Behaving like some sort of cornered mamma bear whose cubs were in danger.

The fury that raged in his gut had been almost instantaneous and electric. No one came on his land without his permission, and _no one_ touched what belonged to him. He and Howard had handed out the kind of beating that wouldn't see those pieces of shit coming back to Franklin County anytime soon, but the rush of satisfaction that generally came with staking his territory was tempered with the realization that he had gone that crazy because of a woman.

And when it was over, the look he saw on her face had practically wrenched his stubborn and guarded heart from his chest. The sharp blue eyes that he'd seen flash every emotion at him from joy to furious anger were paralyzed with sheer terror. She looked so frightened and so lost and he couldn't think of anything to do but take her into his arms and make her feel safe again.

Bridget was panicked, scared, and vulnerable and it was the only explanation for what had happened later. She'd kissed him. _She'd_ grabbed _him_ and put her soft, delicate, painted red mouth against his. At first, shock had left him paralyzed and rooted to the spot, but it only took a moment for his body to react; taking its instruction from his cock and not his brain and he kissed her back. Thanks to his brother and his impeccable timing it was over before it really began, but damn it all if he couldn't still feel her soft skin on his hands and her lips on his.

On one hand he actually felt he owed Howard a debt of gratitude, he seriously doubted if he'd tasted her anymore that he would have been a gentleman enough to curb the animal roaring inside him. He knew without a doubt he would have hefted her up like an uncivilized brute, lifted her dress and taken her hard and fast right there on one of the crude wooden tables in the middle of the station. Not giving a fuck who saw him do it.

Bridget deserved more than that. She deserved to be in her right mind when she took a man, and she deserved to be laid down on a soft bed and shown the sort of attention she constantly gave to everyone else. It was obvious that in that moment she'd seen him as a protector…not a man. She'd touched him out of fear.

Forrest shook his head and snapped back to the present, realizing that his constant and nagging thoughts had unconsciously led him to her door. It was open just enough to look through, and although every ounce of his rational mind screamed at him to turn around and walk away, he couldn't do it. He _had_ to look at her.

She was still sleeping, her face turned on the pillow facing the window while her wild auburn curls, fallen free from her braid, spilled around her like a silky blanket. The expression on her face for once was completely calm and at ease; gone were the worry-lines in her forehead, leaving her to seem much younger. His eyes wandered down further from her face and suddenly his jaw clenched at the sight of her body.

It was a far cry from the tame, enchanting vision that her face presented.

The heat had apparently gotten to her too even in her sleep. Her legs had kicked free from the blankets and the simple cotton nightdress she was wearing had tangled up around her waist, pulling the hem up to the top of her thighs leaving her long, pale legs exposed. His mouth literally watered at the sight and he felt himself harden to immense proportions when he noticed her flawlessly rounded, full breasts were almost bared by the skewed garment. The thin fabric worn from constant washing barely shielded the twin rosy peaks of her nipples, the diaphanous material giving him a perfect outline of the dark, raised flesh and he had to close his eyes and physically turn his head away.

He stormed down the rest of the hall way, shutting himself in the bathroom and turning on the tap with much more force than was necessary. The hell with soothing muscles, he was going to need a goddamn ice cold bath to calm himself down- again.

:o:o:o:o:o

Forrest wasn't exactly a man inclined to waste his time soaking in the tub, but this afternoon he really didn't trust himself to be anywhere else. And despite the agitated and riled mood he'd first stalked into the room with, after a thorough scrub with a bar of soap and a wash cloth he felt a million times more relaxed. He leaned his head back and left the wet washcloth over his tired eyes as he let his arms fall into the water. He just needed to check out for a minute, maybe two.

He took a deep breath, grumbling angrily as the first thing that his mind registered was the ivory soap smell that clung to the cloth. It was the same smell that clung to Bridget, and after she'd accidentally thrust her cleavage into his face while she tended to his injured earlobe last night he knew every inch of her skin smelled that way. Like clockwork his body responded instantly, and he quietly growled his aggravation into the air.

Here he was a grown man dealing with the sort of ridiculous, uncontrolled responses that he thought he'd gotten rid of as a teenager. But it seemed that whatever had taken control of his manhood was not going to be dealt with by ignoring it or getting pissed off at it. It was frustrating as all hell, he'd never been ruled by lust, and why this damn woman was any different he wasn't entirely sure.

A smile curled at his lip when he remembered her screaming at him, red-faced and furious when she'd found out how he made his money, and before, the first night he met her, in that soaking wet dress that might as well have been transparent, when she stuck out her chin at him and dared to call him out while still maintaining that ridged air of dignified grace. And last night, when despite being injured she thought only of his well-being patching him up the minute she saw blood.

She _was_ different. Bridget was strong minded and independent, able to weather adversity and still care for a family with complete devotion and her head held high, and whether she was in a plain dress or all dolled up she was the most beautiful damn thing he'd ever set his eyes on.

His body betrayed him again, his hand moving of its own accord from underneath the water to grasp at the rock hard flesh between his legs with a firm squeeze before sliding up to the tip. Oh for fucks-sake, this was what he was reduced to. Well, if his cock behaved like a teenage boy he might as well join it. Forrest groaned helplessly as his hand began to slowly slide up and down his length, his strong hips moving on instinct with the rhythm as white-hot arcs of arousal surged through him like lightning. All the while his mind was left with nothing but images of _her_.

This was goddamn pathetic. Hell, at least he was in the tub.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget woke out of a dead sleep with a start. Her heart was racing as she looked around the room, her hazy eyes darting back and forth until her brain registered that she was safe; laying in her bed. She took a deep breath and calmed herself back down. Her wrist throbbed with a dull ache and her cheek stung a bit, but other than that it was as if the hellish nightmare that she'd endured was nothing but a vivid and horrific nightmare.

For a moment last night she was quite convinced that her life was going to end and it had given her the strength to fight back and protect her family.

But Forrest had saved her. He'd literally charged in and saved her life before carrying her away to safety, and inside his strong arms she'd felt protected for the first time since she was a child.

Then she'd let her head get away from her like a fool and kissed him. Though at first she would have blamed it on the adrenaline or the fear, but now in the light of day she knew none of that was true. She kissed him because she wanted to, because she was drawn to him in a way that she'd _never_ been drawn to another man and because she couldn't go another minute without knowing what those full lips felt like against hers. And when she pulled her head away, he pulled her right back in. Bridget may have been the one to initiate the touch, but it wasn't long before Forrest took control just like she knew he would, and my god he felt wonderful.

A pleasant tingle suffused her entire body and she smiled at the memory, it was absolutely amazing. Even when Howard barged through the door, interrupting them and scaring her half to death, she still enjoyed holding onto him as he used his broad body to shield her. That movement silently declaring that nothing would happen to her on his watch.

But then something changed. He stepped away from her, his grey eyes were hesitant and closed off again, and he dismissed her to bed in the same tone that one would send off a child. Like nothing had happened between them at all.

Bridget frowned as she adjusted her nightdress and leaned back onto her pillow again. Her hand absently came up to twirl a strand of hair around her finger. Did he not find her attractive? She was pretty sure she wasn't misreading the hungry look on his face either at the dance or later at the station, and he had kissed her…so what was the problem?

Her stomach flip-flopped with nerves when she realized that she hadn't kissed a man in a long time. Maybe she wasn't good at it? Caleb had always been a chaste man, kissing was relegated to the occasional peck on the cheek in public or very rarely a close-mouthed kiss in the darkness. They'd never kissed during intercourse either; he'd been focused solely on getting the act completed as quickly as possible. And before that, it had been a few sloppy kisses with drunken boys that had ended before they began.

Suddenly she was left with a terrible feeling of inadequacy. Maybe Forrest _had_ wanted her, and then realized that she wasn't what he wanted in a woman- and why would he? She was poor and plain, saddled down with a family, and there were no doubt plenty of women in Franklin County that had more money and were much more refined than she was, and Forrest had the pick of all of them.

She rolled her eyes and sighed angrily at her pathetic behavior. It was time to get over it and get up; she'd slept away nearly the entire day and there were things that needed to be taken care of. Bridget stood up and fixed her night dress, before walking to the foot of the bed and sliding on her robe.

She just needed to go to the bathroom and wash her face.

:o:o:o:o:o

She walked down the empty hallway slowly, noticing that the bathroom door was mostly closed but not shut all the way. Her hand came up to gently knock when her ears picked up the sound of water sloshing around and then a low grumble. Someone was in the tub apparently. But when her eyes accidentally flickered up and looked through the open door, the reflection she saw mirror above the sink froze her body in complete and utter shock. Her heart pounded and raced, but she couldn't tear her eyes away, she _had_ to look.

Forrest was lying stretched out the bathtub in all his glory, naked as the day he was born while his hand was between his legs…_oh my_.

Now, Bridget had seen a naked man before, but perhaps if this was what one was capable of looking like she really hadn't seen one at all. His arms and shoulders were broad, thick and solid with roping muscle, and his wide chest sported well defined pectoral muscles that sloped down into strong, flat abdominals while his powerful thighs were spread wide. The entire masterpiece was all dusted with just enough dark brown hair to emphasize his complete masculinity. And then there was _that _part of him, the part that made him a man, and there was no doubt that she'd never seen anything that looked like… that.

The male anatomy had always been something that she'd looked at as a design with a simple purpose, nothing that needed to be studied or paid attention to. It was meant to procreate and that was it. But his was enough to make her completely rethink everything that she had ever known. It was large, thick and proud, just like the man himself, the hard flesh still managing to look impressively sized even with his wide palm moving up and down on it. Her face burned with flush when she realized that she was practically panting like an animal in heat, the entire lower half of her body throbbing in waves of molten desire. She was so soaking wet between her legs that she should have been mortified, but nothing would register in her mind except for the undeniable realization that she wanted him more than anything. Part of her wanted to run far away, and the other part wanted to throw open the door, climb into the water and relieve him from having to do the work himself.

A low, deep growl suddenly came from him and Bridget had to bite down hard on her cheek to keep from whimpering as she looked up at his face. His eyes were covered with a damp wash cloth and his beautiful plump mouth was slightly open, to let the delicious noises fall from it, his tongue darting out every now and then to moisten the flesh before taking it with his teeth.

It was too much. The entire sight had ignited such passion in her body, that she couldn't stop the way her thighs instinctively squeezed together to try to relieve the pressure. In fact she was so lost in a lust inducted fog that she didn't realize that she was leaning off-balance, her neck craning to see him better, until she lost her balance and had to grab the wall to stay upright.

The loud thump of her hand against the door jamb was enough to have him sit up straight and rip the towel from his eyes, water spilled over the tub from the force of his movement. Bridget spun on her heel as fast as she could to literally run down the hallway and jump into her room before closing the door and leaning her back against it. She could hear him a few steps behind her as he stormed out of the bathroom and then there was silence before she heard the footsteps retreat and the door close again.

Her mind frantically raced, he had to know it was her that made the noise; there was no one else up here, and that meant she had been watching him. How was she going to be able to look him in the face again without picturing him doing that, and worse yet, with knowing that _he_ knew _she'd_ seen him? Oh Lord, what had she done to herself?

Bridget swallowed hard against a shaking lump in her throat as her body refused to calm itself down. She finally heard him walk out of the bathroom and into his bedroom across the hall before he stomped down the stairs to the main floor of the station a few minutes later. After standing for another twenty minutes she finally opened the door and tried to walk on wobbly knees as she made for the bathroom again…dinner was certainly going to be interesting tonight.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Long weekend, nothin' to do...muse likes it.**

**I wanted to thank everyone who is enjoying this story, please continue to leave feedback! I love it.**

* * *

Bridget finally managed to get herself together and was ready to go downstairs a half hour later.

She'd sat for a long time in front of the mirror in her bedroom and looked at the small patch of purplish bruising on her cheek before gently putting on a small bit of ivory colored powder to cover it up. Admittedly it would have been a bit easier to do if her cheeks weren't permanently stained bright pink; though after what she's seen this afternoon she was pretty sure that she would never need rouge again. She pinned up her hair, taking care that it was neat, not a curl out of place, and lastly her hand hesitated for a second before she put on a little raspberry colored lipstick. She justified the indulgence because the small pop of color would serve to take attention away from her bruise, not because she wanted to gussy herself up, and certainly not because she wanted to dress up for Forrest.

There was an issue when she opened the trunk to get dressed though. She was out of clean clothes, the few dresses that she owned were in the process of either being washed or dried. Thanks to the dance and the events of last night she was behind on washing and she could only sigh when she sorted through the few items that were left and came up with an old dress of Mary's that Katie had saved with the hope that she'd eventually grow into it- it hadn't happened yet. Bridget threw on the gingham blue pattern and winced when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Her and Mary had been relatively the same size, though Bridget had a few inches on her in height and more importantly at least a cup size in her bra. As a result the conservative hem fell above her knee and the scoop neckline left far more of her breasts on display than she would have liked. She decided that wearing her white cardigan was essential, no matter how warm it was.

Her feet were quiet on the stairs as she walked down to the main part of the station. She looked around to see that there were several tables full of patrons that were all in various stages of carousing and drinking, though not one of them had any food or coffee. Finally her eyes lit on Forrest's normal table, he was sitting down as usual, hunched over his work with Howard across from him staring off into space and beside him was little Patrick, who was the first to notice her presence. The boy immediately jumped up from his chair and came running over with a huge smile splitting his face before he wrapped her legs in a crushing hug.

"Afternoon, sweetheart," Bridget whispered as she leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Have you been good today?"

Patrick nodded and pointed at Forrest's broad back.

"You've been with Forrest all day?"

He nodded again, the smile not leaving him. Patrick took her hand and pulled her over to the table to show her his rock piles and the little piece of ledger paper and pencil that had been given to him to catalog his work. It sent a feeling of warmth through her that was altogether unrelated to the lustful passion she experienced earlier. My god was there anything about this man that didn't grab at her very being?

"And 'lo she returns the land of the livin'." Howard's teasing tone announced her presence.

Bridget smiled quickly and then paused, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Forrest's head remained down in his work, though the entire line of his shoulders and arms went rigid at his brother's announcement. Heat dusted her exposed neckline- he definitely knew she'd seen him earlier. She didn't want to embarrass him or herself any more than had already been done, so she chose to completely ignore the entire situation. Instead she looked back up at Howard and smiled, "You know me, always sleepin' in and shucking off chores."

He laughed and finished the rest of the cup of coffee in front of him. Bridget was surprised to see he wasn't halfway gone with a jar of whiskey, which would have been the usual for this time of day. He was definitely still a complete mess, his hair was askew and his clothes looked rumpled, like he'd rolled around on the floor with them on, but his pale green eyes were clear. A small tug pulled on her heart, she owed her safety to him as well as Forrest; Howard came to her rescue and then guarded her family for the night for no other reason than he was a good man. She walked around the other side of the table and leaned down to take him into a hug, wrapping her arms quickly around him and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek, "Thank you for what you did."

It was all she said, but he responded after a pause by quickly squeezing her back and mumbling in a low tone. "Ain't anythin' to thank me for, Bridget."

She pulled away, with a deep breath, fighting away the tears that wanted to fall again at her gratitude for these men. She stood back up and took note that both their coffee cups were empty; she collected the empty mugs and walked behind the bar, dumping out the revolting smelling liquid in the percolator and starting some fresh brew.

A few minutes later the smell of coffee instantly wafted through the station, catching the nose of much more than the two Bondurant men. There were several of the patrons that lifted their heads and looked up to see her behind the bar again, "Miss Sullivan, can we get anythin' to eat?" A voice queried loudly. "We're starvin' out here."

Bridget laughed and shook her head at the chorus of men who joined in. "Give me a minute now, gentlemen. I'll be with you soon as I'm done."

She brought out a pair of clean mugs and poured both Howard and Forrest another cup of coffee before walking off to the other tables. As she poured a few more cups to eager tables, she let her eyes wander over to Forrest just in time to catch him put down his pencil and pick up the cup of coffee. He paused for a moment as if taking a deep breath to savor the aroma before taking a long sip of the hot liquid, licking his lips afterwards and going back to his work. Just seeing his tongue dart out was enough to flash her memory with the sight of his beautiful body again; the deep throb was back between her legs with such a vengeance that she had to knock her knees together to stop them from trembling. She needed to busy herself this afternoon if she was going to make it through the day without completely losing her mind and doing something insanely foolish- like walking over to his table, hiking up her dress and climbing on top of his lap to feel that part of him against her where she wanted it most.

:o:o:o:o:o

Busy herself she did. She began to prepare for dinner with an enthusiasm that she hadn't had in quite some time; marinating chicken in a buttermilk wash for fried chicken and throwing on a huge pot of greens to cook down. Her mind swirled as she hummed a few old hymns that her mother used to sing to her as a little girl while she moved through the kitchen, peeling potatoes and sipping on her own cup of coffee. Absently she remembered seeing a small container of fresh blackberries in the refrigerator and instantly thought of making a cobbler for dessert.

Bridget suddenly paused, the song making her remember an amazing whipped cream that her mother used to make that had a bite of bourbon; it always did wonders for anything that it topped. She frowned when she realized they didn't have bourbon…but there was the apple brandy. She walked to the back shelf, picked up a jar and looked at it for a moment; she didn't want to use it without asking, after all selling it was how Forrest made his money. So she walked over to the table and decided that she'd ask him if it was alright.

"Forrest?" Her voice was far more breathless and quiet than she would have liked it to be.

He stopped what he was doing and she could see his grip tighten on his pencil before he looked up at her, his grey eyes scanning up to her face quickly, taking her in before snapping back down again, "Yeah?"

"I was just wondering if I could use a jar of brandy to make dessert with," Bridget explained sheepishly. Feeling foolish as her face heated up just talking to him, "Not all of it…just a little…I'll pay for it if you'd like."

Forrest looked up at her again and quirked an eyebrow in interest as he chewed on his bottom lip, "Whatcha makin'?"

"Just a cobbler is all; the brandy is for the whipped cream on the top." She answered quietly.

He nodded and kept his eyes on hers for a moment longer before he answered, "You help yourself to anythin' you like in this place, Bridget. You never have to ask my permission, alright?"

She swallowed hard as his penetrating gaze seemed to sweep over her entire body, and she couldn't help but notice that his eyes seemed to spend an extra beat staring at the too-low neckline of her ill-fitting dress. Her childish thoughts instantly wanted to ask him if that offer extended to him as well as anything she wanted to use in the kitchen. "Alright, thank you."

Howard abruptly stood up from the table and rolled his eyes, grumbling loudly to himself before throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her affectionately towards him. "Don't you worry there, Missy, I'll take that jar right off your hands soon as you are done."

Forrest's gaze narrowed at the display and Bridget didn't miss the way his older brother waggled his eyebrows at him. My goodness, how pathetic and transparent were they getting with their behavior?

"Thanks for the offer kind sir," She replied with a sigh, ducking underneath his arm and walking away, "I'll let you know when I am done."

:o:o:o:o:o:o

A little before five, Bridget was just starting to fry up the chicken when Katie came running into the front door of the station looking like she'd just been hanging out on a clothes line in the middle of a hurricane. Her blonde hair was mussed and messy and her cheeks were bright red. Bridget frowned instantly when she realized that she'd been so lost in her daydreams and improper thoughts of Forrest Bondurant that she had completely failed to notice that her little sister was nowhere to be seen all afternoon.

"Where have you been lookin' like that, Katherine?" She asked as she folded her arms and fixed her with a hard stare.

Her sister's bright blue eyes opened wide, and she took a deep breath in and out, "Oh, um, nowhere."

"Nowhere?"

"Well, uh, Jack took me for a little ride to cheer me up."

Bridget cleared her throat angrily, "And you just left Patrick here by himself? You were supposed to be taking care of him."

Her cheeks flushed as she stared down at her feet, "I'm sorry; Jack said that he was with Forrest so I thought it was alright."

"Forrest is a busy man, he does not need to be babysittin' and picking up your slack so you can go off gallivanting with Jack, which, may I add, is completely inappropriate. A woman your age does not run off with a man before you get permission." Her tone was hard and she could see Katie's thin hands curling into fists at her public dressing down. "Go on upstairs and fix yourself, dinner will be ready shortly."

Katie stormed off up the stairs with a string of curses under her breath that Bridget was actively trying _not_ to notice just as Jack came sauntering in from the backdoor with an extra bounce in his step. His hazel eyes were sparkling as he vaulted up onto the stool right in front of the stove and fixed her with his most infectious smile, "Good afternoon, Miss Bridget, good to see you up and about again. Not to mention the smell commin' from this kitchen is about the best darn thing I've ever smelled- whatcha makin' for dinner."

She tried to get as angry with him as she did with Katie, but damn it all if his dimples didn't throw her off. "Something you will be sittin' on the porch staring at through the window if you take my sister on a car ride again without askin' like a proper gentleman, Jack Bondurant."

He hung his head guiltily before wincing, "I am real sorry, Miss Bridget, Katie was just all upset about last night and I wanted to make her smile. It's my fault."

"Well," she sighed deeply, "just see that it doesn't happen again. Now, let me get dinner on the table. Go on and get this place closed up, I'd like us to eat in peace tonight."

:o:o:o:o:o

It felt nice to enjoy a good meal again, as if nothing had happened. Bridget sat back and watched as six people, who were complete strangers not too long ago, came together as a small family to enjoy the food. Plates were piled high and she couldn't help but wonder with the way that Forrest was shoveling in his food, if he'd managed to get down any of Katie's breakfast. Not to say that her sister was an awful cook, she just tended to be a little heavy handed with the salt and pepper is all. But as she watched him carefully and deliberately taking bites off the chicken, noticing the way that the grease had left a shiny gleam on the plump flesh of his lips; Bridget had to wonder if she didn't love cooking for him so much because he genuinely seemed to enjoy every last morsel.

She ate her own food slowly, minding her manners and making sure to wipe her hands often on the napkin that sat on her lap. Bridget was listening to Jack and Katie talk a mile a minute about the creek that he'd taken her to and how it would be a lovely location for a picnic; when she absently reached down to wipe her fingers. She froze instantly when instead of the soft fabric of her napkin she encountered the rougher tweed of cotton trousers and the solid feel of a muscular thigh. Her hand shook when she realized where she'd touched.

Forrest flinched at the contact but somehow managed to stay in his seat as her face flamed red and she quickly removed her hand, only to rap her knuckles hard on the edge of the table. Bridget bit down on her lip hard to stifle the cry of pain and she tried to cover the abrupt noise with a cough. But the sidelong glance of grey eyes on her body was not missed. Now she'd gone and added the_ feel_ of his body to the wealth of visual information she had gathered about him earlier. Was he that firm all over?

"Your hand alright?" He mumbled in a low voice as he sipped at his coffee, the question muffled and meant only for her ears.

"Fine," She answered quietly. "I apologize for putting my hand on you."

"Don't."

The single word hung in the air between them and Bridget suddenly found it hard to swallow. Her heart raced, what did he mean by that? She nervously looked over at him only to be met by those incredible eyes and that same hungry look he had given her the night before, right before his mouth was on hers. He drew his lower lip into his mouth and Bridget literally felt something in her mind go completely haywire.

"Are you listening to me, Bridget?" Katie's voice cut right through the fog in her head.

"What?" She said with a sigh, "I'm sorry I missed that."

Her sister's face scrunched into a strange look before a devious smile slowly spread, "I was just saying that once you and Mary went to Chicago with daddy when you were little."

"We did. It was a long time ago. What does that have to do with anything?"

Katie shrugged and tossed a lock of her blonde hair over her shoulder, "Nothin' much, just makin' small talk is all."

Bridget eyed her suspiciously and tried to finish her meal, and she really tried to ignore the fact that for the rest of dinner his eyes never left her face.

:o:o:o:o:o

When the meal was done and plates were cleaned, Bridget walked back up to the bar and put on a pot of coffee. "Would you all like to have dessert outside tonight? It's nice out."

"Sounds good," Forrest answered as he stood up pulling a cigar out of his pocket and lighting it with a puff of sweet-smelling smoke.

The boys meandered to the door and Bridget had Katie help her as she plated the still piping hot cobbler, covering each one with a huge slathering of the brandy flavored whipped cream, leaving Patrick's with a scoop of plain white froth. The two of them managed to balance the six bowls on a serving platter and carry out the percolator full of coffee and extra mugs.

Katie handed out the dessert one bowl at a time and took a seat right next to Jack on the edge of the porch as she dug in.

Bridget crouched down and situated Patrick with a napkin to protect his shirt and keep at least most of the blackberry sauce off of his clothes, before grabbing her own plate and taking a seat on the bench next to Forrest- a bit closer to his body than she would have dared to yesterday. She took a big spoonful and sighed as the warm, tart sauce mixed with the soft dough and created a delicious little bite topped off with the fluffy sweet burn from the brandy cream. It was near perfect, one of her best. And as a reward for a hard day's work she even let herself sneak a look at the man sitting next to her, who seemed to be in heaven as he finished every last bit of it, while managing to make licking his spoon clean seem positively indecent.

Now she was jealous of silverware.

A loud groan came from Howard's general direction and Bridget leaned over to see him sprawl out against the wall with an empty bowl in his hand. "Good, god_damn_, woman, I have half a mind to tear apart that cabin's foundation so you'll be stuck here."

Bridget smiled as she finished her own bowl, "I'm pretty sure I'll be in debited to Forrest for the rest of my life the way things are goin' money-wise so I'm sure cobbler won't be tough to come by."

"Should just make him cut out the financial expenses and marry you, that way it'll be easy for everyone." He answered wryly.

Bridget's mouth fell open in an 'O' of surprise and Forrest sputtered on the mouthful of coffee he'd just taken a sip of. He coughed loudly and again, reacting on maternal instinct alone, Bridget reached behind him and patted him on the back a couple of times with a strong whack. Her hand absently rubbed big circles on the soft fabric of the back his shirt until she heard him stop coughing and realized that she was touching him. She pulled her hand away and shook her head, not missing the shit-eating grin on the older Bondurant's face.

"Well," She began with a sigh, completely ignoring the elephant in the room, gathering up everyone's empty bowls and helping Patrick stand up. "I think it's time for someone to head off to bed. I'll be back down in a little bit."

She didn't miss the sharp punch that Forrest managed to land into Howard's prone shoulder as she stepped into the station.

:o:o:o:o:o:o

Thankfully Patrick was cooperative this evening and after a quick washing he jumped into his nightshirt and crawled into bed. Bridget rubbed his head gently and leaned over to give him a kiss, "Goodnight, baby."

She padded down the stairs with a yawn, apparently still a bit worn out and tired from the previous night. Suddenly the loud rumble of a car engine caught her attention and she walked quickly to the door to see a brand new model Ford coupe pull out and head back up the road. Her heart began to race and she opened the door to see Jack bounding back up from the gas pumps.

"Who was that?" She asked as she tried to keep her voice calm.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Just some city suit lookin' for a fill up on the way back to Roanoke, said somethin' about some important business bringin' him all the way out here to Franklin County."


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Happy short week! Oh my do I have stuff in store...**

**Thank you SO much to all have reviewed, followed and faved...I can't even tell you what it means...honestly : ).**

* * *

She couldn't sleep. Bridget lay awake in bed and listened to the calm, rhythmic breaths of both her sister and Patrick as she stared off into the partial darkness, the only light came from a single hallway bulb through a small cracked opening in the door.

That horrible man had been back, the one who had demanded money, and less than a week later. Was he watching her? Waiting?

Suddenly, she felt the uncomfortable dampness of sweat covering her entire body; it felt like she was burning up. Bridget silently slid out of bed and walked over to the window, lifting it up to let in the night breeze. But where normally cool spring air should have been there was only a stale, stagnant puff of mugginess. It was so humid, and the damp smell that came with the loud chirps and twitters of the insects through the trees was a definite signal that a thunderstorm wouldn't be long in coming.

Bridget took a deep breath and knelt down on the floor, crossing her arms on the window sill so she could rest her chin on them. She took a deep breath and tried to stop the tears that began to form in her eyes. She _needed_ to tell Forrest about what happened. But what could she possibly say to him? She already owed him so much, too much, she'd taken and taken from him like a no account leech from the moment that she set foot in Blackwater Station. And now what- was she going to walk up to him and ask him for two_ thousand_ dollars?

He wouldn't give it to her, and if he did, he would expect some sort of compensation for it-what did she have to give him? A simple meal and her body was all she had, and it was a pathetic offer. She wouldn't insult him like that. He was too good of a man.

She took a trembling breath through her lips and couldn't help but notice that she was knelt down like she was praying and suddenly the tears began to spill from her eyes. Bridget buried her face in her arms, letting her hands fall onto the back of her head to take huge, handfuls of her hair as she silently sobbed into the night. She felt like she was losing control of her family. She couldn't do this alone anymore, she just couldn't.

The loud creaking of footprints on the stairs snapped her out of her daze and she jumped back up from her knees, walking on tingling legs back to the bed. She had just barely curled into bed, facing the wall, when she heard the steps stop just outside her door; the light in the hallway helped to cast a long shadow across the room. It was silent for a moment and she held her breath, watching and listening. Bridget knew it was Forrest, he must have just finished working; he stood for a few more seconds before he turned out the light and walked off to his own bedroom.

Sleep did not come easily to her.

:o:o:o:o:o

The weather the next morning seemed to further reflect her mood. If it was possible it was even more humid, and the clouds, even in the early morning sky, were as thick as pea soup and a dark, threatening grey. Bridget poured herself a tall glass of ice cold water and held it against her neck as she worked behind the stove to plate up some eggs and ham.

Howard barged into the front door a minute later. "Jesus H. Christ it is hotter'n hell out there." He groused loudly as he took his seat at the table, taking off his hat and wiping his damp brow with the sleeve of his shirt.

"You want some cold water?" Bridget asked from the stove, "I made some tea and put it in the refrigerator only a bit ago, it isn't ready yet."

"That's fine."

She brought the food over to the table along with a pitcher of water and ice. Everyone took a tall glass with the exception of Forrest, who, despite having a dusting of red on the tips of his ears and a slight sheen of sweat along his brow, still insisted on drinking hot coffee with his breakfast. His ornery reply to her that "it's what I do every mornin' and why should this one be any different" made her smile in spite of herself and her less than chipper mood.

Everyone ate in silence until Forrest put down his mug and cleared his throat, looking over at Howard. "We gotta do a run this mornin', delivery up in Rocky Mount." He looked over at Bridget when he was done, catching her eyes with a gentle stare, "You gonna be alright with us gone?"

Bridget slowly chewed on a piece of fried ham and tried to make her expression as neutral as possible as her pulse fluttered out of control at the thought of being all alone. "I should be just fine." She finally managed to answer as she stared down at her food, avoiding his searching eyes.

"Yeah," Forrest drawled quietly as if talking to himself more than her. "Alright then, Jack, you're gonna stay here and stick around till we come back."

Jack looked up from his plate and with the frown on his face Bridget was almost sure that he was going to complain about being left behind to tend to the station; that is until his hazel eyes fell on her nervous face and instantly picked up on her uneasiness left over from the attack. "Sounds good to me Forrest, I was gonna work a bit on my car anyhow. The brakes have been givin' me trouble and I wanna bleed the lines."

He nodded with a grunt of approval and raised his mug to take a sip, once again keeping his voice low directing it only to her ears. "We won't be long, nothin' will happen to you."

"We?"

The word fell out as a quiet whisper as she let herself look at him, knowing full well that everything she was thinking was written on her face plain as day. How in one breath could he clearly show he cared for her well being and still manage to distance himself?

Forrest swallowed hard and nodded slowly, his eyes not staying on hers.

:o:o:o:o:o

Katie hummed loudly as she helped Bridget finish up with the dishes. Her sister was in a heck of a mood this morning; actually she'd been off since that night. Part of her wanted to ask if she wanted to talk about it, but another part of her was pretty sure that the only reply she'd end up with would be a nasty tone she wasn't all that favorable to meet. So instead she put her head down and efficiently wiped everything down, before throwing the dish towel over her shoulder and resting her elbows on the counter, staring out to the empty tables.

"No one seems to be out today." She said just to start any type of conversation.

Her sister only shrugged.

"Weather's god-awful. I bet we're gonna get one heck of a thunderstorm this afternoon."

"I'm sure."

So this was what she was in for if she said nothing at all. Katie took a deep breath and spun around to lean her elbows on the counter before staring down Bridget. "Are you alright? 'Cause if you aren't you can talk to me, I'll listen."

Bridget smiled weakly, "I just have a lot on my mind, Katie, don't worry. It has nothing to do with you, honey."

"Does it have to do with Forrest?"

She instantly regretted the question the moment it fell from her mouth. Bridget's blue eyes flashed with a spark of irritation before she tucked an errant strand of curly hair behind her ear and her jaw clenched, "I swear to god if _one_ more person says something about us I am gonna lose it. What _is_, or _isn't_, going on between Forrest and me is _our_ goddamn business and no one else's. You understand me?"

Katie had to use every ounce of her composure to keep her eyes from bugging out of her head and a smile from splitting her face in half. She merely looked at her shoes and nodded quietly, giving a long pause to compose herself before she lifted her head again and grabbed the towel around her neck. "Um, alright, so…I think I'm gonna bring Jack a glass of iced tea. It's hot outside and he's been workin' for a bit in the garage, it's probably pretty stifling."

"Fine," Bridget grumbled, "I'll call you to come in to help me with lunch."

The blonde had already set to pouring out a huge glass of tea, filling it with ice and realizing halfway through that she wasn't sure how sweet he liked it. Katie settled on putting in just enough to taste it and take away the bitterness. "I'll be back in a bit!" She quickly yelled as she ran around to the other side of the bar and disappeared out the front door before her sister could ask any questions.

:o:o:o:o:o

Katie walked out to the garage and fanned her face in the oppressive, muggy heat. It really was odd weather for so early in the season. She found Jack a few minutes later, lying on the ground with only his long legs hanging out from underneath the car. "Hey!" She yelled out to announce her presence.

He scooted out and she tried not to blush like crazy when she realized that he'd shed his shirt and was wearing nothing but a white undershirt that clung rather well to his stomach and left the muscles of his arms completely exposed. And she was pleasantly surprised to see that she hadn't been imagining things when he hugged her.

A dimpled smile tugged at his mouth and he stared up at her as she leaned against the door with the cold glass, "Hey yourself, beautiful. Whatcha got there?"

"Just a little somethin' sweet to cool you off," She answered with a playful smirk.

Jack jumped up and sauntered over to her, leaning on the door of the car and mirroring her position. "Somethin' sweet, huh," he mumbled as he ignored the drink she held out in favor of cupping her cheek with his hand and gently taking her lips in a gentle kiss, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with hers. He pulled away a moment later and laughed as he grabbed his shirt to wipe a smudge of grease off of her porcelain colored cheek. "Thanks, that was sweet."

Katie rolled her eyes and held up the drink again, "I meant _this_."

He accepted and took a long sip, his smile not fading and his eyes staying fixed right on hers. He let out an exaggerated sigh as he handed the glass back to her, "Thanks."

She took a sip from the glass as he moved back to the open hood and began to fiddle with a couple of wires. Katie crunched loudly on an ice cube as she watched him, completely fascinated. She'd always been interested in how machines and cars worked, in fact she used to spend hours just hanging out with Mary's husband James as he tinkered with all sorts of things. He'd even taught her how to drop the oil pan and change the gasket on his prized Model T; of course that ended with less than stellar results when her blonde ponytail had fallen _in_ the pan of crude, black sludge. Bridget had been less than pleased, and she could still see Mary screaming at her husband as she tried to fight through the laughter that was threatening to take over.

"What are ya doin'?"

He smiled as he gestured with his wrench, "Some serious stuff here."

"You're messin' with the carburetor again. You are gonna end up flooding the engine if you keep pushin' it."

Jack froze and turned his head to look at her; Katie couldn't help but giggle as he gaped wide-mouthed at her like a fish out of water. "What in the hell, how do you know that?"

Katie shrugged, "'Cause it's a simple thing. Too much gas and not enough air; your engine is pushin' it as it is, judgin' by how it sounded yesterday, and you can't open it up anymore without completely muckin' it up."

"You know about cars?" He pressed.

She nodded, "Well, I listened a lot. I told you Bridget kept me away from the boys, so I spent a lot of time with my brother-in-law and he was always fixin' somethin'. I mean I don't know how to do it with my own hands, but I remember what he said. I kinda remember everythin' I hear for some odd reason."

Jack shook his head and put down his tools, "So lemme get this straight, you are drop-dead gorgeous and smart. Damn, can I just cut to the quick and marry you now, before you come to your senses and realize you're kissin' a complete fool?"

Katie's heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of the word "marry", but instead of feeling nerves all she could do was smile. "Well you gotta ask me nicer than that, Mr. Bondurant." She leaned over to where he was crouched and this time was the one to grab his lips in a deep kiss before pulling away, "And if I'm so smart, don't you think I know just who I'm kissin'?"

:o:o:o:o:o

Somehow in the past two hours it seemed that the entire population of Franklin County had decided to show up at Blackwater Station for something to do to beat the heat. Bridget had gone through just about every batch of iced tea she could make and had even reluctantly settled for serving alcohol for the simple fact that she just wanted people to sit back and leave her the hell alone for five minutes so she could breathe.

She grumbled angrily as she wiped her wet face and neck on her apron, trying to catch her breath. Where in the heck was her sister anyhow? How long did it take to get a damn glass of iced tea to a man!

Bridget grumbled as she jogged around the counter to the door, waiving off another patron who yelled for her attention with a friendly gesture and a breathless, "be right with you", before popping out onto the porch and calling for Katie in a rather undignified yell.

The rain began to suddenly pour down in big, fat drops and Bridget walked to the end of the porch squinting through the deluge to the garage below. It took her a few seconds to process what she was actually seeing. Her sister was on the trunk of Jack's car. Well she _assumed _it was Katherine, but from the angle she was at all she could see was her pale, skinny legs wrapped around his waist as he stood between them and her hands tangled in his messy hair.

And from the way the back of his head was moving they certainly weren't _talking_ with their mouths.

Bridget's hands balled up into fists so tight that her nails bit into the flesh of her palms. How _dare_ he touch her like that! And right under her nose like she was some sort of goddamn fool!

She saw absolute red. Without another thought she turned on her heel and ran back into the station, completely ignoring everything and everyone around her as she reached behind the bar for the same shotgun that Howard had used two nights ago. Apparently they were going to need a little more than a subtle hint on how she expected them to behave.

Her feet splashed in the puddles as the rain began to soak through her pale blue dress. Her chest was heaving with fury when she finally stormed up behind them, reaching out a to grab a fist full of his thin top as she wrenched him completely off balance with a show of strength that took the young couple completely by surprise.

She lifted the gun and pointed it right at his chest before screaming, "What the fuck are you doing with your hands on her!"

Jack's panicked eyes were as wide as saucers and he stuttered uselessly, "I…I'm…I…"

Katie slid off the back of the car and thought nothing of standing in front of the petrified boy, screaming back at her sister with the same amount of rage, "Are you _insane_!? What are you doing!?"

"I'm NOT talking to you!" Bridget yelled. "Get out of my way, he wants to act like a damn snake and come after you, he's gonna take his own punishment." She reached out to snatch at her sister's arm, grabbing it tightly and swinging her away with such force she accidentally tossed her onto her backside in the dirt.

She was shaking with rage when she turned back to Jack and lifted the barrel again, "Answer me! What made you think you could touch her!"

"I'm sorry," he gasped, "Bridget, I never meant anything but the respect for Katie-I…I'm in love with her."

His admission was the last straw.

"LOVE?!" She screeched, "You are both too young to know ANYTHING about love! All you know is what is going on in your pants!"

"What in the fuck is goin' on here?!"

Forrest's booming voice suddenly came from right behind her and Bridget was spun around when his large hand closed on the barrel of the gun, wrenching it out of her grasp like it was nothing at all and tossing it off to Howard. Bridget's nostrils were flared with indignation and she was so far gone in her own anger that she missed the absolute look of pure fury in his hard, grey stare. His hand shot up and snatched her arm; he squeezed hard enough to bruise, hauling her against the solid wall of his chest with a strong yank.

"I asked you a goddamn question woman, and you _will_ answer me." His voice was nothing more than a snarl as he leaned his face into hers, so close the brim of his hat hit her forehead.

Bridget tried to pull her arm back, but she couldn't even make him budge. It was like trying to move a stone wall.

"Let go of me, now!" She snapped back.

Forrest took a deep breath through his nose, turned around, and stormed off towards the still running truck, dragging her away with him. He didn't say a word as he ripped open the passenger side door and all but flung her inside.

"Do _not_ move." He barked as he slammed it closed and walked to the front of the truck."Howard, get their fuckin' asses inside _now_. I'll be back."

Bridget looked up just in time to see the bleak look on the older brother's face and the curt nod that he gave. What had she done? What was he going to do to her?


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Well...as I wrote this it was muggy and rainy...thanks nature, did the muse call?**

**Just wanted to say thank you, thank you to all that have reviewed this story, I can't even tell you how much it means to a normally self-deprecating writer :). (And you wonder where Bridget gets her neurotic inner voice from!) Please continue to do it!  
**

**Without more ado...**

* * *

Bridget was shuddering both with anger and absolute terror as she sat in the cab of the truck as Forrest sped along down a winding road that looked like nothing more than a cart path in the middle of the woods, taking her God knows where. Frantic thoughts assailed her mind in a whirlwind as she kept herself pressed up against the door and as far away from his hulking form as possible. But she didn't need to look at him to see the seething rage that was taking hold of his body. The way that he was hunched over, literally wringing the steering wheel with his hands and the hard, fast breaths that snorted out of his nose let her know that this wasn't the man that carried her into the station- this was the beast that destroyed those men with his bare hands.

The rain was pouring down so hard the windscreen looked like a distorted waterfall and she wasn't sure how he was managing to see where they were going at all. The only thing that she could make out through the side window was the dense pine forest they were going deeper and deeper into.

He finally slammed on the brakes and turned around to her. Bridget wasn't staying trapped in that cab damn for one more minute; before he could say anything she flung open the door and jumped out of the truck, running out into the deluge. Her eyes were frantic as she tried to recognize anything about where he had taken her. There was a wide open field to her left, and right in front of her was a tall hill covered in a thick grove of Virginia Pines.

A massive clap of thunder rang out from over her head and she flinched at the noise, losing track of her surroundings for a split second. It was enough for Forrest to catch up to her. His strong hand closed on her arm again like a band of iron and his pure strength stopped her in her tracks. Bridget instantly panicked and tried to pull her arm away from him, crying out in pain when he tightened his grip. She realized the futility of the action and like any prey animal trapped in the jaws of a predator she finally stopped struggling and gathered up every ounce of strength in her body and stared at him.

If he was going to hit her, she would stand up to him and take it. She wouldn't run away like a coward.

He had left his hat in the car and the rain that soaked his ivory cotton shirt had plastered his hair down onto his forehead. And damn her for noticing how much younger it made him seem. Though her musings were cut short when she caught sight of the cold piercing glare in his stormy eyes- it was as dark as the clouds in the sky. She trembled despite the hot air that surrounded them and waited for whatever he would do.

"Goddamn it!" Forrest finally growled shaking her hard enough to make sure he had her complete attention. "I ain't _ever_ raised my hand to a woman in my life, but you point a gun at my baby brother again and I won't hesitate to knock you on your ass, do you understand me!"

Her eyes went wide at his threat, but instead of registering in her mind with the sort of fear that it should have, anger bubbled to the surface. Bridget scoffed and growled right back at him, "Then you tell your goddamn brother to keep his filthy hands off of my sister. He has no business touching her!"

"I sure doubt that Jack was doin' anything to her that she didn't want to happen."

"She's a CHILD!" Bridget yelled at him, ignoring herself and leaning her face right into his. "She doesn't know what she wants, and he ain't gonna fill her head with lies about fallin' in love!"

Forrest pulled his head back in surprise, as if he was taken aback with her forcefulness, before his eyes narrowed and he brought his mouth right up to hers, "I got news for you, that ain't a child. She's a grown woman, and my guess is she wants the same thing any woman wants from a man whose willin' to give it."

She felt her face flush and her eyes tear up with frustration and anger, she knew all about what men gave a good woman. She'd worked her hands to the bone and watched her youth escape her without once being showed even one single moment of devotion.

"Oh, 'cause _you_ know what a woman wants you arrogant son-of-a-bitch! You have no goddamn idea what I want!"

"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT- I _DON'T_!"

He roared at her, his voice was louder than she'd ever heard him yell. But there wasn't anger in his voice; it was irritation, and something darker that sounded suspiciously like pure want. His wide chest was heaving with the force of his words and his jaw clenched hard as his eyes searched her face.

Bridget froze at the sudden change in the air around them, the adrenaline and anger surging and mingling with the electric charge in the storm to turn into something all consuming. Instantly the contact of his bare hand on her skin seemed to both scorch her flesh and send chills down her spine. Her voice shook as a tear of torment spilled from her watering eyes to mix with the water that ran down her face, her heart ached in her chest and she suddenly felt absolutely terrified of this man. Not of the violence he could do to her body, but instead the pain and suffering she knew he could destroy her with if he didn't stop touching her- pain that she would welcome.

"Let me go." She finally whispered her voice breaking.

Forrest stared at her, his eyes boring back into hers. "No."

His lips were so close to hers that she could feel the ghosting touch of coarse hair from his beard as his jaw worked, grinding his teeth together.

"Fuck you, Forrest Bondurant." She finally managed to snarl, desperation lacing into the tone.

"Alright, then."

Bridget expected him to shake her or strike her at the vulgar insult; instead she gasped as he moved lightening quick to take her face in his large palms and she breathed sharply through her nose as his full, soft lips crashed onto hers. She wrestled her now free hands up to his chest and pushed away from him as hard as she could. The shove clearly took him by surprise and he fell back a step, just enough to give her the ability to step out of his grasp. Her chest was heaving, and her mind was lost, the only thing she could feel, taste and smell was _him_. Bridget's entire body shook and she wound up before he could reach for her again and slapped him hard across the cheek, furious he'd dared to touch her like that.

Forrest didn't move; she could see his fists clench at his side and his entire body radiated with the most insanely powerful energy she'd ever seen in a human being as he stared her down, blatant lust raging in his darkening eyes. He was masculine, an embodiment of the most primitive definition of what it meant to be a man and God help her as it took hold of her body in such a way that she was utterly powerless against it. In a breath she was on him, her hands grabbing onto his face and tangling into his soaking wet hair as she pulled his mouth down to meet hers in a kiss born of absolute desperation.

It took him only a heartbeat before he took charge, wrapping his strong arms around her body and lifting her up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist. Bridget moaned at the change in angle as her height allowed her to tilt his head back and finally coax open his mouth to taste him in a way she'd been dreaming about for days.

She normally would have been hesitant, chaste, but the moment and her lust had long ago swept away any sort of nervousness and propriety. Her tongue darted out boldly to touch his, sliding against it with an assertive stroke and enjoying it immensely when he responded by attacking hers with the same angry passion. Every move she made was instantly countered with a dominant declaration, letting her know that though his throat was bared up to her- he was in charge.

Bridget was completely lost in the numbing feel of his tongue and his mouth and those unbelievable lips, as she let herself suck and nibble on the plump flesh, moaning like a wanton woman. He tasted of everything that surrounded them, the earthy pines, the warm rain and beneath that, the flavors she'd come to know as home- coffee and cigar smoke. It was delicious, a last meal she'd savor for _hours _if she could. And the more she tasted the more she wanted.

Forrest's hands shifted downwards as she kept kissing him deeper and deeper, moving from their relatively sedate place on her waist to grasp her backside in his large palms, kneading the soft flesh through the thin, sodden fabric and pulling her hard against him; trying desperately to relieve the immense ache between his legs. He'd been rock hard from the moment he saw her run out of the truck and into the field, and the heated argument between them had only added fuel to the inferno. She'd looked like some sort of enchanted creature born of an ancient mythology he knew nothing about; her auburn locks were drenched and wild in the wind, while her dress was transparent- revealing just enough of her body to tempt him to madness and still keeping enough hidden to make him want more.

He normally would have been wont to analyze the situation, reminding himself that she was no less emotional now that she had been the night she'd kissed him. But as her soft, wet body slid against his, the rational part of his mind was quickly lost to the hungry alpha male fueled by lust that wanted nothing more than to lay claim to the woman who'd been haunting him since she showed up on his doorstep.

Suddenly a massive lightning bolt ripped through the sky illuminating the field and striking a tall tree not far in the distance. It was followed by a deafening boom of thunder and he instantly resurfaced into his mind as an acrid sulfur smell wafted into his nose. Bridget jumped at the sound and pulled her lips away from his, turning her face behind them towards the smoldering tree. They had to get out of the field and take cover before they ended up struck down as well. He briefly considered going to the truck, before the logistics of the situation demanded some place with a little more room.

Forrest jostled her around in his arms until he was carrying her bridal style, the look of alarm and desire in her beautiful blue eyes set his pounding heart into overdrive.

He needed this - her - _now_.

He carried her a few feet to the hidden, pine covered door of his still, throwing off the camouflage with one hand before setting her gently on her feet and opening the door. An unconscious feeling of suspicion washed through his body about showing her this place, but he stamped it down in the same breath. Logic told him that she had no damn idea where they were and his heart reminded him that she had more claim to this land than he did.

Bridget breathed deep and tried to calm her racing heart and trembling limbs, she couldn't think straight, the only thought she could register was the voice that screamed from the core of her femininity to let this man take her. She stood numbly as he opened a hidden door in the hillside and reached out to take her hand, pulling her into the space.

From what she could make out in the dim light it was bigger than the outside let on, and as she smelled a sweet aroma of cooked corn and sugar she _knew_ just where he'd taken her.

Forrest seemed to disappear into thought, and she suddenly was gripped with the awful notion that he would come to his senses and stop touching her. It was that crazy thought she would later blame for her completely barbaric behavior as she walked up to him again and grabbed the back of his neck with one hand to capture his mouth, while her other palm lifted to unceremoniously cup the front of his trousers; there was no mistake what she wanted from him.

Her hand squeezed his hard length through the rough fabric of his pants and she couldn't stop the gasp that fell from her lips at the feel of it. She'd seen it the other day, but somehow that did absolutely no justice for its size. She tried to wrap her fingers around it through the confines, but it was too thick. Before she couldn't think any more about it, Forrest's hands reached under her dress and grabbed the back of her thighs, lifting her up and practically tossing her backwards onto a stack of hay bales against the wall covered with a coarse wool blanket. He stepped between her legs and she instantly wrapped them around his waist as his hands took hold of her hips, grinding against her hard.

Bridget let head lean back against the wall as her eyes closed at the feel of him rubbing against her center in a rough, insistent rut. Her plain cotton underwear was absolutely soaked through and she shamefully bit down on her lip as a throb from deep inside her confirmed that not all the moisture was from the rain. He let out a low growl and her eyes snapped open just to see his face lean into hers; his hungry grey eyes looked almost black in the low light as he started her down before he latched onto her mouth again. His tongue delved deep as the rough skin of his palms ran up her thighs to grab the flimsy elastic of her underwear, pulling them down her legs and off completely.

She cried out loudly as his fingers found their way back up, dipping between her thighs to stroke her center. A completely masculine groan rumbled through his chest, as he touched the damp, hot flesh, his tongue unconsciously thrusting into her mouth in mimicry of what his manhood was screaming to do.

Blood roared in her ears and flushed her body as Bridget tried to balance enough to lean forward, grabbing at the button of his pants and tugging them open. The zipper came down easily and she pushed against his mouth to sit up more, taking his long shirt in huge handfuls, pulling it free in the front. She groaned impatiently when his suspenders encumbered any further undressing, it only took a touch on them before Forrest withdrew his hands from her dress and threaded them through the straps, letting her pull his pants to his knees before returning to her mouth; kissing her like he was a dying man in need of water and she was the only way to quench the thirst.

She reached blindly for him, yanking him against her by the length of his long shirt tail, greedy to feel his skin on hers. Her thighs seemed to scorch as she wrapped her legs around him, reveling in the scrape of his coarse body hair against her body. They were completely nude where it mattered most, but still remained hidden from each other's eyes.

Forrest groaned through clenched teeth as he reached down under their clothes to bring his cock to her welcoming body, rubbing the blunt tip against the delicious slick she provided. He suddenly thrust forward to breach her, stretching the flesh with a strong, continuous push. His eyes squeezed shut and his hands fisted in the rough blanket on the hay bale as her inner walls gripped him like a vise, not trusting that he could touch her without hurting her. He felt her body go stock still as he bottomed out against the door to her womb, and he paused for a moment to let her adjust, still unable to trust his hands.

Bridget whined and her back arched painfully at the intrusion, one hand grabbing the scruff of his neck as the other clung to the blanket underneath her. It had been so long since she'd been with a man like this and his generous size took her breath away. There was no way to describe the sensation other than one of being completely and utterly _filled_.

She breathed a deep, tremulous breath and let her body relax, as he took the opportunity to withdraw slightly before pushing back in again. His hands finally came up to hold her hips as he started a deep rock, each time pulling out further and pushing back with more pressure, establishing a steady rhythm that began to build in intensity.

She cried out as he suddenly touched something deep inside her, a place she never even knew existed in her own body. She'd _never_ felt pleasure like this. A flood of new wetness rushed from her core as a tingling surge of electricity shot through her body. Suddenly she couldn't get enough, Bridget leaned back and arched her chest as he started to thrust hard against her, his grunts and groans echoing in the room only serving to amplify her gratification.

He let go of her hip and brought his large hand up to her heaving chest, eagerly palming a breast before he grabbed at the neckline of her dress, tearing it down and popping buttons with it. His hips never faltered as he pulled down her dress, slip and bra in one shove, bearing her rosy nipples to his hungry gaze. A keening wail fell from her mouth as his soft lips latched first around one peak than the other, suckling with an instinctive pressure as he feasted on the mounds of pale, creamy flesh that had taunted him for days.

Her body began to tense and tighten from the inside as he took her mouth again. Bridget whimpered at moaned as she felt it coil and tighten, squeezing harder and harder before suddenly- she shattered- her heart nearly seizing in its rhythm as her inner walls clamped down on him. Her climax ripped through her and she pulled her head away from his mouth as it fell back in a strangled scream.

The sound of her release sent him into a triumphant and powerful pace as he thrust hard into her a handful of times before burying his soaking wet face against her neck as he snarled out his own release, spilling his seed with a low growl.

Neither one of them moved as they came back down to earth, chests heaving and mouths open. Bridget winced as he pulled his head off of her neck and stared at her with a calm expression in his grey eyes, they seemed to search her face for a moment before he gently withdrew from her body with a quiet hiss and let her cover her chest as best she could. Her bra and slip were intact, but the top four buttons of her dress were missing, torn completely off. Bridget tentatively sat up and watched as he slipped back into his suspenders and tucked his wet shirt back into his pants.

The anger and adrenaline were long gone from their argument, and now the passion and lust were beginning to fade as well. Suddenly the voice of reason that she had effectively ignored for a good long while returned with a vengeance. She'd lain with him…actually lying in a bed would have possibly been excusable behavior. Instead she'd let him fuck her on a bale of hay in the middle in the woods while she moaned and screamed like a wanton whore. How in God's name was he going to see her now?

Her legs shook as she stood up, searching on the ground covertly for her underwear. She found them, filthy and covered with dirt, at the toe of his boot. Her face glowed with mortification and she couldn't bring herself to pick them up, or look him in the eye; instead she held the front of her dress closed and walked out the door without looking back or saying a word. She needed the air.

Thankfully the rain had stopped, and even the humidity seemed to have broken a bit. Bridget shivered in the cool, moist air as her eyes moved around the landscape, taking in the beautiful pine trees and the smell of the spring. And even though her head was still raging a mile a minute, she felt it blessedly hard to hear the noise in the perfect silence. Forrest came up behind her, she felt him as he stood just inches away, his body still radiating the same power it always did. She wanted to turn and look at him, but the thought that she would find something different in his eyes because her behavior scared her too much.

So she turned and walked back to the truck, her heart clenching tight in her chest as she realized she could still feel ghost of him moving inside her and all around her and between her legs remained a mixture of the both of them, created together in a moment of pure bliss. A tear slid down her face as she realized her own cowardice, she could look him in the face when she thought he wanted to hit her, but not after giving her body to him.

Bridget knew then she wasn't worried that he'd look at her with disgust, she was afraid to look into those beautiful grey eyes because she might see something that mirrored her own feelings.

Feelings that felt suspiciously like love.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Had to get this out before the weekend...so I'll edit later...**

**Enjoy and review :)**

* * *

Bridget wouldn't look at him.

Forrest kept his head facing forward on the road and chewed on his lip absently as he drove them back to the station. On the outside he kept calm and neutral, his face showed nothing, but inside everything in him was churning with the force of a hurricane. His head was spinning with the implications of his actions. He'd taken her at her most vulnerable, and despite the fact that it was perhaps the most satisfying moment in his entire life, he was left with the stark realization that instead of treating her like she deserved, he'd done little more than fuck her like a brute.

Despite the turmoil he felt about the situation, all it took was the mere thought of their act for his body to begin thrumming again with arousal. He could still smell her everywhere, all over his skin, and his jaw clenched tight at the memory of how she'd felt when he buried himself deep into her. The velvety softness had gripped him like a silken fist, tight and wet; he'd never known anything could feel that divine. Though to watch her shed the perfectly polished and pinned up façade she always presented to moan and scream because of _his_ touch- may have been a close second.

He already wanted her again.

Of their own accord his eyes wandered over to take her in. Her head was turned away from him and towards the window, her messy curls tumbling freely down her back and creating a shield for her face. The entire line of her body screamed of tension, her legs were crossed tightly at the thigh, a position that normally a lady wouldn't take for the sake of modesty; but he suspected it had more to do with unconsciously shielding what was _between_ her legs from him as opposed to being dainty. And her arms were across her chest, one hand holding her dress closed with such a grip that he could see the pressure in her knuckles.

He genuinely felt bad about ripping the buttons off of it. He knew by the worn condition of her clothes that she didn't have the money or the ability to take anything she owned for granted. But at the time, watching her thrust the heaving mass of her cleavage in his face while she literally held him hostage by his cock was something he really couldn't ignore. His libido seemed to have gotten the better of him- again.

His mouth watered again as he instantly recalled the sweet taste of her skin, and her mouth. Damn it, he could spend the rest of his days with his head buried between those mounds of flesh and never once worry that he was missing out on the world.

But now that it was all said and done and he was coming back down to Earth, there were some serious nagging issues that were wrenching at his gut. Forrest didn't want to admit or acknowledge the fact that Bridget had somehow managed to worm through his fastidiously placed defenses, burrowing deep under the regimented order and rules that he governed himself with and discovered where his carefully guarded feelings lie.

It was true that he wanted her body. From a purely physical standpoint there wasn't a red-blooded man alive that wouldn't, but there was also something else there, and it was something he wasn't wont to name.

And apparently neither was she.

:o:o:o:o:o

The minute he stopped the car in the familiar driveway of the station Bridget had already opened the door to the truck and walked out. She didn't look back at him as she pulled open the screen door and walked in, ignoring the stares of the few customers hanging around and the concerned look of their respective siblings before practically jogging up the stairs to the second floor.

Forrest stood in the middle of the floor and ran his fingers through his drying hair, catching the curious eye of Howard as he walked over from the table.

"You alright?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah, fine."

"_She_ alright?" He pressed, nodding off towards the stairs and arching up his brow.

Forrest grumbled to himself before narrowing his eyes at his older brother in irritation, "There a _reason_ you think she wouldn't be alright?"

Howard took the words at face value and raised his hands up in a show of surrender. "Not at all little brother, just sayin' you two were a little heated when you left, just makin' sure."

He grunted and turned to walk towards his office when he noticed that there was a body standing in his way. Patrick was staring up at him with daggers in his bright blue eyes and his little hands were balled up into fists as if he were a grown man ready to square off and fight.

Forrest was taken back for a minute, at first annoyed with the child and then slowly the realization dawned that the little man was protecting Bridget. He'd seen her come in upset and run upstairs, he must have thought that Forrest had done something to hurt her.

He sighed and crouched down so he was eye level with the angry child before clearing his throat and speaking in the same soft and deliberate tone he was fond of using with Jack when he needed to be set straight. "Look now, Patrick, I didn't hurt her. You hear me? I don't put my hands on women like that. Your Aunt and I, we had words between us as adults and now we are all settled. All that sit well with you?"

Patrick seemed to think on his explanation for a minute before nodding his head very slowly. He stared at him and his small jaw seemed to be working, as if he wanted to say something; but instead he stuck out his hand. A half smile tugged at Forrest's lip as he reached out and took hold of it with a gentle shake.

That crisis solved he walked to the sanctity of his office for a little down time. God knows he needed it.

:o:o:o:o:o

Thankfully no matter what had happened in the growing shit storm that was becoming his personal life - and he fucking _hated _the thought that he now actively wanted to change his routine for things that qualified as such – his books and accounts were always wonderfully sedate. He smiled in spite of himself as he looked at the ledger; he was sitting on one hell of a nest egg. In the ten years he'd been bootlegging and running the station, he'd managed to personally squirrel away $43,961.26. It was enough, when the time came, to keep him, Howard and Jack comfortable for the rest of their lives.

See, he might have been a backwater Virginia boy that the big city gangsters in Chicago and New York would have looked at like he was shit on their shoe – but he wasn't stupid. He read all the papers and knew the winds were changing, prohibition of alcohol had unleashed a crime wave the likes of which the country had never seen before, and it wouldn't be long before folks had taken enough and got laws changed. And though he knew that he'd be running a still and making white lightening until the day he died, he wasn't going to be having his tables full at the station like he was now.

It's what people like Floyd Banner and Al Capone didn't understand.

A million dollars don't mean shit if you are dead in a ditch or rotting away in a jail cell; it was a lesson he was _still_ trying to teach Jack. Forrest remembered quite clearly the day he'd walked up to him with a cocky grin to tell him that he'd sold every last drop of liquor they had to Floyd Banner for five dollars a jar. It was two dollars more than he generally got for it. But what Jack had failed to understand, was the fact that he didn't sell it for three dollars because he couldn't get five, he sold it for three dollars because it netted him a tidy little profit and let him slide right under the ATU's attention.

His father had always told him to make sure that he didn't bust his ass for nothing. "Work smart, not hard, Forrest. Life is a hell of a lot longer than you think."

He'd never forgotten it. Though now he was suddenly starting to realize that he'd organized and planned for every eventuality in his life, except for one- was he going to spend it alone? He doubted he was actually "indestructible" and it would be nice to spend his remaining years with someone, after all no one gets out of this life alive.

He smiled at his own wit and frowned in the same instant when he let himself imagine, clear as day, Bridget sitting next to him on the porch of his family farm house; grey in her hair and a smile on her face.

Damn it. If his head kept this up he just might have to take up sampling some of his own product to shut his head up.

Forrest brought his hands up to scrub at his face hard, sighing loudly as he took stock of his surroundings and realized that he'd been in his office for the rest of the afternoon and through to the evening. No one had even bothered to ask if he wanted dinner, though to be fair he hadn't been in the best mood earlier. He heard Jack's laughter and caught him as he was about to follow Katie and Patrick up the stairs.

"Jack," He spoke loud enough for him to hear and in a tone he couldn't possibly misinterpret.

His little brother winced and turned slowly, walking to the door of his office and suddenly becoming very interested in the door jamb. "Yeah, Forrest?"

"What in the hell were you doin' earlier today?"

"Nothin'," He answered sheepishly. It only took a look to let him know the answer wasn't going to fly. "I was kissin' her, and I ain't gonna stop unless she tells me. I wasn't lyin' when I said I think I love her."

Forrest shifted in his chair and folded his hands over his chest, staring him down with a calculated eye. "Yeah, well, that's an easy bullshit answer. Try sayin' it like you mean it."

Jack instantly squared up and stared him down with anger in his eyes, "I said I love her."

"Alright," Forrest nodded to himself, "now be a man and tell that to the woman who's been lookin' after her all her life."

His little brother stared down at his shoes and nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, Jack," he said pulling out a cigar from the corner of his desk and picking at it. "You don't need my permission, I trust you at your word."

"I wanna marry her." His smile stretched clear across his face. "Like next spring, or maybe summer."

Forrest shook his head and put the cigar between his teeth before standing up and walking to the door, he patted his little brother on the shoulder with a grunt. "Yeah, alright then. You best have this talk with Bridget and not me." He walked past him and made his way to the front door.

"I ain't lyin'."

He waived his little brother off with a smirk, "We'll see 'bout that. But 'till then keep that pecker o' yours to yourself, you hear? 'Cause I ain't gonna save you again if she points a shotgun at you."

Jack grumbled some sort of reply before turning around and marching up the stairs. Forrest chuckled at his own wit and struck a match, frowning again when he realized that he was apparently better at giving advice than taking it himself.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget woke out of her light sleep when she felt Katie and Patrick crawl into bed. She couldn't believe that she'd been sleeping all afternoon - again. She waited until their breathing evened out before sitting up and slipping into the hallway in her robe.

She walked to the end of the hall and stepped into the bathroom, taking in her completely disheveled and destroyed appearance in the mirror. She grabbed a washcloth and ran cool water into the sink so she could at least partially wash; a bath tonight was just out of the question.

Thanks to the humidity and the rain her curls had frizzed out into a huge, auburn puff. After tugging her hairbrush through the snarls she settled for simply braiding it and letting it fall down her back. The water felt blessedly wonderful on her sweaty face and after swiping it across the skin on her neck she stared at her reflection.

It was just her face looking back, but somehow there was something different. A pink hue suffused her cheeks and her lips, and her normally pale skin seemed to glow, as if her body had been rejuvenated by her earlier release. A wry smile crossed her face as she mocked her own foolishness- now if she could only get her mind to talk to her body and sort out her feelings she'd be all set.

What _did_ she feel?

A sudden twinge of soreness between her legs was the reply she received. Her hand tentatively came up under her night dress to gently cleanse the skin between her thighs, and as the washcloth skimmed the soft flesh of her folds she couldn't help but bite her lip while she cleaned away the evidence of their passion. It had all been too much to deal with earlier in the day, but right now she just let herself revel in the purely physical reaction.

Being with him had been the most amazing experience of her life. Forrest was a force of nature, and so deliciously masculine that she was quite sure she'd never find another man to equal him. My God, how he had made her body do what it did she had no idea.

She'd come to climax before, granted it had always been of her own doing when she was a young girl with idle time and wanton thoughts, but she had never felt _that_! It was like her body was throwing some sort of convulsing fit of pure passion…and she'd be lying through her teeth if she said she didn't want to feel it again.

His tongue- who knew a man who spoke so little could have one so damn talented. Bridget couldn't hide a smile as she recalled the hungry way he'd literally devoured her breasts with those perfect pillow soft lips. She was hard pressed to even be irritated about the torn buttons on her dress that she had no money to replace.

Maybe she'd ask him for it at breakfast. She rolled her eyes at herself the minute the thought struck; she had been spending far too much time with Howard and his loose tongue.

But just under the joke was the realization that when all was said and done she didn't feel anxious or upset about what had happened. It was something …wonderful…she had just never felt anything like it. But maybe if she _tried_ a little she could see if there was more in his interest than just an angry encounter and lust.

A loud grumble from her stomach suddenly pulled her out of her revelry. She had skipped dinner and she was starving. Maybe a midnight snack would help to calm her down more, it certainly couldn't hurt.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget made sure to tie her robe tightly around the front of her body, though the worn cotton fabric offered only slightly more coverage than her nightdress, and she could already feel the way the cool air was making her nipples start to stand out. But she studiously ignored it as she padded down the stairs in her bare feet to the first floor.

The station was perfectly silent and she enjoyed the change from the normally raucous and noisy atmosphere. She craned her neck to notice that Forrest's office light was still on, but after a covert stretch of her neck she confirmed that he wasn't in there.

She walked behind the bar and grabbed a small frying pan, her hunger craving a little bit of comfort food. After grabbing and egg from the refrigerator and slicing a thick piece of bread she was just about to turn on the stove when she caught the faint smell of sweet tobacco smoke. He must be having a cigar on the porch.

Instinct guiding her she walked to the screen door, her arms coming up to cover her chest as she poked her head out and caught sight of the glowing orange ember in the darkness. All it took was standing in his mere presence again to send her heart racing, and to dry her throat with nerves.

She couldn't say anything to him about earlier…not yet.

"I didn't eat dinner," Bridget managed to speak with a tremble in her voice. "Are you hungry?"

The double entendre was not lost on her. He shifted on his chair and cleared his throat, exhaling another cloud of smoke. "I could eat." He answered.

"Alright," She said feeling shy all of a sudden, before speaking again. "Do you like egg yolks runny?"

Through the darkness she could see the puzzled look on his handsome face. "Well, uh, not usually, um, but if you are makin' somethin' I'll eat it."

She nodded and walked back into the station, smiling to herself as she turned on the stove and buttered the thick slice of bread, cutting out a perfect circle in the middle of it to hold the egg. The "egg in a basket" had been one of the first things she'd learned how to cook as a little girl, but it had remained one of her favorite late night snacks. Though for this one she decided to be fancy and crumble up a bit of bacon in with the cooking egg.

Apparently clandestine and inappropriate activities really incurred an appetite.

When his was completed she plated it up and walked out to the porch with his dinner. Bridget handed off the meal, freezing for a moment when he stood up to take it away. He stood a plate's space away and stared at her silently, his eyes still managing to unnerve her in the darkness. They were calm, but just beneath the soft, grey color was a hint of the fire that he'd shown her, still burning like smoldering coals, just waiting for fuel to blaze again. His rough fingers brushed against hers in a gentle touch, lasting only a moment before he stepped back as if to give her space.

Bridget's heart was pounding against her chest with such fury she thought it was going to burst. She smiled weakly at him and turned away to the inside, perhaps she would just have her meal at the counter quickly and get back to bed…that would be best.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Monday, Monday...crazy day! Hope you enjoy : ).**

* * *

"Miss Bridget?" Jack's quiet voice hesitantly floated over her shoulder the next morning as she was cutting shortening into flour for biscuits. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

She turned around and looked up to see that the boy had gotten up early; there was no one else in the room, with the exception of Forrest, who had his head in his books and his hand wrapped around a mug of coffee. She watched as his grey eyes flitted up quickly to look at them before staring back down again.

"Of course," Bridget answered as she stopped what she was doing and turned around to look at him. "What can I do for you, Jack?"

He cleared his throat and stared down at his feet, his hazel eyes darting back and forth while he nervously wrung his hands. "I'm sorry for not comin' to talk to you about courtin' Katie. But I wanted to know if you'd give me permission, I wasn't lyin' when I said that I love her and I want to be with her."

His voice wavered a tiny bit with nerves but otherwise held fast. Bridget sighed and looked at the boy, no - young man - in front of her and wiped her hands on her apron. "I have been takin' care of that girl since she came into the world. She means _everything_ to me, Jack; I just want you to know that." A wry smile cut across her face as she sighed defeated, finally realizing that somehow under her nose Katherine had managed to grow up. "I give you my blessing, under the condition that you treat her like she deserves to be treated, and if I catch you hurtin' her or disrespectin' her I _will_ make you pay for it young man. Am I understood?"

Jack nodded enthusiastically and beamed at her, "Yes, ma'am."

Bridget bit her lip, "I also apologize for my behavior yesterday. That was…uncalled for."

"Oh, you don't need to apologize."

"Funniest goddamn thing I've seen in years!" Howard's loud voice boomed as he walked into the room. "I thought you were gonna shit out a brick, Jackie boy!"

"Aww fuck you, Howard."

"Gentleman," Bridget warned as she turned to attend to the sausage gravy on the stove, trying to suppress a chuckle, "a little early for that sort of language, don't you think?"

:o:o:o:o:o

Apparently their late night snack hadn't done anything to dent his appetite. Bridget smiled to herself as Forrest helped himself to a third plate of biscuits and gravy. She chewed her own food thoughtfully as she realized that she needed to get to town today to the general store, there were a few things she was short on- namely underpants and dress buttons, thanks to the man beside her.

"I have to go to town this morning," She finally said out loud, keeping her voice down and directed mostly to Forrest. "I need to get a few things."

He nodded slowly, before settling back in his chair and reaching into his pocket to pull out a five dollar bill. He handed it to her as his eyes remained down in his plate. "I, uh, know we need a few groceries, now, um…this should cover it."

Bridget gently took the bill from his hand, her fingers trembling a bit when they brushed against his as she tried to ignore the fact that they were both blushing furiously. She lifted up her face to see that thankfully both Jack and Katie were too busy making eyes at each other to notice, and Patrick was too interested in his breakfast- but Howard wasn't.

He had stopped eating; his hand still perched in the air mid-shovel with a fork full of food as his pale eyes took them in with a sharp, clear stare. He watched them for a moment or two before a grin cracked across his face and he chuckled to himself. Bridget tried to ignore him as he cleared his throat and spoke, his tone dripping with innuendo.

"Real interesting weather we had yesterday, hot enough to boil a man's blood."

Forrest grumbled as he rested his arms on the table and fixed his older brother with a piercing glare, "Yeah."

"Wonder how the animals were feelin', I know stallions get _awful _restless in the heat. It's when you're most apt to find 'em lookin' for a mare to mount."

Bridget could feel her cheeks burning red and she was quite sure that by the look on Forrest's face, Howard was in more danger at the moment than Jack ever was at the mercy of the shotgun yesterday.

It was when Katie finally started to realize that something was going on that Bridget steadfastly decided that breakfast was over. She stood up and cleaned her plate, taking a deep breath and turning to face her sister. "Katie, can you please come with me to the store?"

"Uh, yeah…okay."

:o:o:o:o:o

The drive into town was quiet. Bridget breathed deeply as the clean air and the warm sun filtered into the open windows of the car, all trace of the oppressive humidity was gone. She cast a quick eye over at Katie who was staring out the car window with a contemplative look on her pretty face. They still hadn't cleared the air between one another after what had happened and as the older sibling, Bridget knew that it was her responsibility to set things right.

"Jack spoke to me this morning," She said quietly, "He asked my permission to see you."

Katie nodded and continued to stare out the window, "And you didn't feel the need to take out a gun?"

She frowned at her sarcastic reply. "So you are gonna be angry with me and _completely_ ignore the fact that you were wrong too."

The blonde turned to face her with her cool blue eyes, "What was it we were doin' that was so wrong?"

"I am not going to argue, Katherine." Bridget spoke calmly, "If he wanted to court you he needed to ask me, it's the way it's done. You just don't jump into somethin' like that, you are both young and you don't want to mess up your life."

"I'm not _that_ young!" She said loudly. "Why do you keep sayin' that? I am twenty years old, damn it!"

This was not going at all like she wanted it to. "Katie, I just want to make sure you don't settle for the first boy you meet. You should make sure that you are really ready to get married and be in love."

Katie crossed her arms. "So, you think I'm too young to be in love? Look at Mary, she met James at seventeen, they married at nineteen and were more in love than anyone in the whole world. Just because _you_ won't let yourself be in love with a man doesn't mean that I don't know what I want."

Her words stung and Bridget bit her lip against the nasty reply that was on the tip of her tongue. "Mary and James were a once-in-a-blue-moon romance. That doesn't happen often, and as for myself, I've been too busy raisin' my family to take the time to worry about foolish things like love. Feeding you, keeping clothes on your back, and a roof over your head was more important to me than being married."

All of a sudden Katie's entire expression changed, as if she was finally beginning to understand where her older sister was coming from. Bridget had given up her life so that Katie could have hers. She reached across Patrick's seat to take her hand in hers, giving it an affectionate squeeze. "Thank you, Bridget. But I know that Jack is it for me, he's amazing. I want you to be happy for me."

"I am and that's why I told him he could have my permission." She whispered as she felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. "He is a good man, honey; I know he'll take good care of you. It's just not easy for me to give you away."

"You aren't gonna lose me that easy." Katie smiled and held onto her hand, "And he comes from good stock you know; so he's not the only one that's a good man."

Bridget sighed and her stomach twisted pleasantly at the thought of Forrest. "Yeah, I know."

:o:o:o:o:o

Town was relatively deserted this early in the morning. Bridget pulled up to the front of the general store and turned off the engine, wondering if she should actually bring back some sort of groceries for the sake of covering herself. Because there was no way in hell she was walking up to the counter and only purchasing underwear and buttons from Mary Lou Burkett. After all she did have Katie to introduce.

The three of them walked into the empty store and as if on cue the old woman hobbled out from the back room and took Bridget in with a grin. "Why if it ain't the beautiful Miss Sullivan, how are things doin' up at Blackwater?"

"Things are very good, Mary Lou," Bridget answered with a smile as she quickly grabbed Katie by the sleeve of her dress and spun her around to meet the old woman face to face. "I don't think you've met my younger sister, Katherine. Katie, this is Mrs. Mary Lou Burkett, she owns this store with her husband Ellis."

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Burkett."

Mary Lou adjusted her thick glasses and stared up and down Katie's body. "My, my, ain't you a pretty little thing. I saw you dancin' with Jackie the other night at the dance. He courtin' you like a gentleman?"

Katie smiled sweetly, "Yes, ma'am he is."

"That's a good match, smart match." Mary Lou answered with a curt nod. "See that he keeps his hands to himself, he don't belong samplin' your wares 'till your married." She paused for a second as if talking to herself before she looked at Katie again, "Though if I were you I'd take a quick gander at him when he's at his best- you don't wanna marry a man who don't measure up, if you catch my drift."

Bridget chuckled as Katie's pale face flushed purple under the attention, "Umm, yes ma'am."

:o:o:o:o:o

Fifteen minutes later she'd settled on a few odd items including a needle, thread, a thimble, three simple white buttons that matched the ones that were missing, and a three pack of plain cotton panties. For extra cover she threw in a set for Katie and found ones for Patrick as well.

She made her way back up to the counter and absently made sure to ask for a bag of potatoes, some more flour and corn meal. Mary Lou was staring at her with a questioning look on her face as she spoke and Bridget narrowed her eyes as she was curious just what the old woman was looking at.

"You look different." She finally remarked as she started writing up the order, "Got a little glow about ya."

"Oh, um, thank you, haven't… done anything."

Mary Lou froze and looked up at her. Bridget could feel her beady eyes literally combing every inch of her body before she adjusted her glasses and stared at her hard, her voice dropping low so only she could hear. "You sure about that? 'Cause after being married for seventy years I know that look on a woman."

"What look is that?" She tried to play dumb.

"The one that comes from a man bein' between your legs workin' hard and makin' you see stars." Mary Lou answered matter-of-fact, "And judgin' by the way Forrest Bondurant was lookin' at you the other night I can only imagine that he was the man to do it. In which case, that explains the glow. Lord knows that man needed a good release, surprised you're walkin' straight. Somthin' tells me he ain't lackin' where it counts."

The flush was instant and uncontrollable, "I, um, oh, I…well." Her mouth couldn't even work to form a coherent sentence and she didn't even bother trying to deny it.

"I have beautiful fabric for weddin' dresses in the back, and I have some Chantilly lace that needs a good home. Fall's a good time to get married 'round here."

"I'll keep that in mind," Bridget squeaked as she finally finished tallying up the receipt.

"Three dollars, twenty cents."

She paid her and took the change just as Jack happened to bound into the door again and Bridget got a sense of déjà vu. He stopped when he saw her at the counter. "You want me to grab anythin'?"

"Potatoes, corn meal and flour again." Bridget answered with a smile, still fighting to keep the raging blush under control. "Thanks, Jack. You didn't have to come here for that."

"Oh, uh, wasn't actually here just for that. I was hopin' you'd let me take Katie and Patrick fishin'; it's such a nice day and all."

"Forrest doesn't have anythin' for you to do?" She questioned, trying to ignore the old woman who was _still_ staring at her.

"No, he told me I could go. I figured I'd try to catch some dinner, usually have luck with it."

Bridget nodded as Katie and Patrick walked over hand in hand. "What's goin' on?" Katie asked as Jack leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Wanna go fishin' with Patrick?"

"Sure!" She beamed.

"Alright, well I just gotta load up the car for Bridget and I'll be right out." He yelled as he disappeared into the back room, "Go wait in the car, doll."

Bridget gathered up her small items and smiled pleasantly at Mary Lou. "Have a good day Mrs. Burkett, I'll see you soon."

"I will," She replied with a smirk. "You have a good day too, Mrs. Bondurant…I mean, _Miss Sullivan_, how silly of me."

:o:o:o:o:o

Katie was stretched out on their rock, sunning herself in the middle of the creek as Jack helped Patrick with his fishing pole. She smiled fondly as she watched the little blonde boy sitting between Jack's long legs, intently staring at the water. It was adorable. Though the way they were going they'd better plan on something else for dinner, because the fish weren't biting at all.

"So, I talked to your sister this mornin'," Jack spoke up, grimacing with a laugh, "scariest moment of my damn life."

"She told me." Katie replied. "Apparently she's decided that you shouldn't die by a shotgun just yet."

He shook his head with a chuckle, "Yeah, real happy about that. Don't want to make you a widow just when I make you a wife."

Katie laughed as she sat up, fixing her skirt and resting her chin on her knees. "I just wish she'd let herself be happy. I mean I am probably going to have ten kids before she manages to date a man."

Jack quirked up his brow in surprise at her nonchalant statement, "Ten kids, really?"

"Well, maybe that's a bit much." She giggled, "How about four?"

"Four's good, three boys and a baby sister, pretty as their momma, that they can protect." He smiled as he reached out with his hand to take hers, bringing it to his mouth for a quick kiss. "Bridget's gonna be just fine. I ain't ever met a woman strong as her before. Maybe she's just waitin' for the right time."

Katie shrugged, "Just would be nice to see her in love."

"Forrest."

The tiny voice spoke up out of nowhere and both Jack and Katie froze with their mouths open, staring at the little blonde boy who had turned his head around to face them.

"She loves Forrest."

Tears filled up Katie's blue eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she practically jumped on the poor child, squeezing him in a huge hug. "Honey, my goodness, you _talked_!"

Patrick only shrugged his shoulders and nodded, looking back at the water again as if it was nothing at all. "Yes, I did."

It was an honest to God miracle. He seemed to be able to speak clearly, the words coming out as if he'd been doing it right along. Suddenly Katie needed to get home and tell her sister about this. Bridget deserved to hear his sweet voice with her own ears.

"We have to go show Auntie Bridget right now!"

Jack laughed and jumped to his feet before crouching down to let Patrick climb on his back. They scrambled across the creek with smiles on their faces and threw on their shoes before jumping into the car and speeding off for home. He decided to stay on the main roads to save time and had the car racing towards the station in no time.

They were both laughing and giggling so much he took his eyes off the road for one second to look over at Katie, his heart pounding at the sight of her beautiful face in the wind. He didn't see the huge downed tree in the middle of the road until it was too late.

In an instant he panicked and slammed on the brakes, his feet crashing into the floor as the pedal depressed with no resistance. He couldn't stop. They were going to hit head on, and Jack jerked the wheel to take the impact on the driver's side as he held out his arms to try to shield them as best as possible. The last thing he heard was Katie's voice screaming out in panic as she wrapped her arms around Patrick and the sickening crack of metal against the massive oak tree- then it all went black.

:o:o:o:o:o

It was late.

Bridget kept checking the clock above the stove, it was almost five and there was no sign of Jack or Katie and she was getting nervous.

Forrest seemed to sense her anxiety, getting up from his table and walking behind the bar to where she was standing. His body so close to hers she could almost feel his chest vibrate as he grumbled. "I told him to be back here for four with them."

Now she was starting to feel panicked and Bridget couldn't shake the horrible feeling that had taken root in her gut. "I'm getting nervous, Forrest. Do you think maybe we could take a ride soon? I just want to make sure they are alright."

His gray eyes were calm as he watched her wring her hands anxiously. He slowly rose up his hand and rested it on her shoulder, touching her for the first time in a purely reassuring way, his thumb absently rubbing along the bare skin of her neck in soothing circles. "Alright then, let's close up and I'll take you."

She nodded and turned to look at him just as the door burst open and Howard came sprinting into the station, his face completely pale and his eyes wide with panic. His chest was heaving, but his words were clear as day, striking terror in Bridget's heart.

"You both gotta come now, there's been an accident."


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: After the awesome response to yesterday's little cliff hanger I had to get this out…**

**Thank you SO much to everyone who reviewed, please keep it up…you make my day! : )**

* * *

Bridget's heart was racing and her hands were shaking as she sat in the front seat of the truck as Forrest drove them into town. She wouldn't let her mind wrap around the concept that something horrible had happened to any of them. It was just impossible; too many terrible and unfair things had happened to her in her life already, she couldn't be asked to endure any more heartbreak. No, they had to be alright. They just had to.

He stopped the truck just outside the simple hospital building and turned to look at her, his grey eyes uncharacteristically tender as he stared at her panic filled face. He took off his hat as and placed it on the dash before he reached over to gently lift her chin with his fingers. "Now, you let me go on in first. I'll make sure it is alright." She couldn't stop the tears from pouring down her cheeks as he spoke to her so gently.

"Forrest, I…I…can't do this…if anything happens to them…I…can't."

He wiped her tears away with his rough, calloused thumb and she actually felt herself calm slightly at his soothing touch. "Hush, now, Bridget. There's no need to be talkin' like that. Come on now, let's go."

She nodded and stepped out of the truck, her knees felt like they were made of rubber and she wasn't sure that she was going to be able to walk. Suddenly she felt Howard's arm wrap around her as he let her lean onto him for support. Forrest strode up the stairs and into the building with a purpose to his steps, and Bridget watched as he walked up to a small brunette nurse who looked to be in her late fifties, judging by the fine wrinkles near her eyes and the touch of white that was sprinkled in her hair.

"Name's Forrest Bondurant, my brother's here, has been in an accident o' some sort."

The older woman's eyes went wide with recognition, "Yes, Mr. Bondurant, I'll get Doctor Mills straight away."

The three of them stood in the sterile, white washed hallway. Bridget tried to ignore the antiseptic smell, instead choosing to rest her head on Howard's chest and put her nose into his shirt. Somehow the odor of tobacco, moonshine, sweat and cow manure was much easier for her rolling stomach to handle.

A minute later a very thin, balding man wearing a white coat and round spectacles jogged into the lobby with the same nurse in tow. Forrest extended his hand quickly to the man, "Doctor Mills," his voice was gruff and tense, "what's goin' on?"

The doctor sighed. "Car accident, Forrest, he hit a downed tree that was across the road. By the grace of the Lord he was able to turn the wheel and hit from the side instead of head on. Jack and the girl are gonna be just fine, both of them have a nasty concussion and a few real good cuts and bone bruises but nothin' a few days here won't cure."

Bridget's heart jumped with joy and then sank into the pit of her stomach in the same breath, "What about my baby!" She managed to choke out, "Please tell me he's alright, _please_."

"Are you his mother?" The doctor adjusted his glasses and stared at her.

"Aunt," Forrest answered for her. "Parents are dead."

The man nodded and grabbed Bridget's hand. "He's alive, hasn't come around yet, still out. He's got a broken collarbone from the girl holding onto him so tight in the impact, probably saved his little life."

She took a shaking breath in and covered her mouth, trying to stay in control. "Thank you, can I see them please."

Doctor Mills led them down a narrow hallway and into a small room, where she could see Katie lying on her back, hands on her stomach and blonde hair spilling out around her head like a halo. She had a large black and blue bruise on the left side of her forehead and she could see a path of cuts and scrapes all down her left arm. It must have been the side of her body that hit the dashboard of the car. Jack was in a bed right beside her, the whole left side of his face was badly discolored and swollen, and there was dried blood still around his nose.

They both opened their eyes as Bridget, Forrest and Howard entered the room. Jack's hazel eyes, red rimmed and blood shot filled up with tears as soon he saw them. "I'm so sorry, Bridget, I couldn't stop. This is all my fault." His voice cracked as he started to cry, wincing in pain from his injuries.

"Oh, no, Jack," she whispered with a soothing voice, her concern and need to mother him taking precedence over her own fear. "It was an accident. You didn't do anything wrong." Bridget walked to his bedside and leaned over to kiss his forehead, "Stop cryin' now. It's all gonna be alright."

He nodded and turned his head to look at Howard and Forrest as they came up to the side of his bed and stood like sentries, concern and worry etched over their normally hardened features. Howard reached out to take hold of his good arm, squeezing once before letting go.

"Bridget?" Katie's voice was quiet and so tiny. She turned immediately to her sister's bedside, taking her hand and kissing her gently.

"I'm right here, honey." She looked so small and fragile laying there, the ill fitting hospital gown making her look like a kid who was wearing their father's nightshirt.

"Is Patrick alright?" Her voice shook.

Bridget closed her eyes and swallowed hard, "He's just fine. You and Jack saved him."

Katie started to cry quietly as she nodded, "I'm so tired, but the doctor told me I can't sleep yet. My head hurts."

She softly brushed her hair off of her forehead and stroked the side of her head. "Just relax. I'm gonna go look in on Patrick. I'll be right back."

A nod was all she got, before her blue eyes blinked closed.

:o:o:o:o:o

She didn't think she could do it, looking at the tiny boy lying in bed with a little sling around his arm while he remained stock still. His skin had taken on a strange pallor from the trauma, and for a heart wrenching moment Bridget saw Mary lying on the hospital bed the morning she'd died. The doctor was talking but she couldn't hear anything he was saying.

She walked to his bedside and knelt down letting her face come close to the mattress as she reached out to take his small hand in hers. He was so cold and clammy.

Bridget took a deep breath and closed her eyes in a desperate prayer to anyone that would help her. She could feel his little chest as it rose and fell in slow, shallow breaths. It was the only thing that helped her stay grounded and sane in the moment, as long as he was breathing he was alive and beside her.

He was going to be alright, please, God, just let him be alright.

:o:o:o:o:o

Forrest stood out in the hallway with Howard ignoring the up and down chatter of Doctor Mills as he stood right next to him. He really didn't care what the man was saying, suffices to say that everyone was alive and would most likely stay that way. His only concerns at the moment consisted of figuring out how the hell Jack lost control of his car; the boy might occasionally be dumber than a bag of rocks, but behind the wheel there wasn't anyone better.

And then there was the well-being of the woman kneeling down at the boy's bedside.

He could tell by the hitch in the steady movement of her shoulders that she was crying again, and he wanted nothing more than to walk over and make everything alright, despite the reality that he could do no such thing. So instead he remained routed to the spot staring at her.

"Forrest?" Howard's voice snapped him out of his fog and he narrowed his eyes as he saw Sherriff Potts and Deputy Branson walking down the hall towards them with uneasy expressions.

Now, despite the fact that the small town man was what passed as law in Franklin County, it was about as enforced as the Volstead Act was. Potts knew that folks around town liked to be left alone, and when he did just that the place was generally well behaved and incident free. In fact, the local lawmen probably counted themselves among Forrest's most loyal buyers when it came to 'shine.

The only time they'd had any issue was during the entire incident last year with Rakes and the Commonwealth Attorney when their hands had basically been tied to assist. He smiled in spite of the situation when he recalled the men coming up to Blackwater Station to serve him a court summons and shake him down for a payoff to keep running his business- Howard had not been pleased.

"Evenin', Forrest," Sherriff Potts began in a quiet voice. "Sorry to hear about Jack."

"He'll be fine," Forrest grunted in reply. "What are you doin' here?"

The men looked back and forth between one another nervously and then back at the two Bondurant brothers. "We've been out to look at his car, and it looks like someone may have cut his brake lines."

"WHAT?!" Howard yelled out, only to be "shushed" by several nurses in the area.

"What in the hell are you talkin' about?" Forrest growled.

His mind instantly went to the ATU and retribution for Rakes' death. But that was squashed almost instantly, it had been a year and if they wanted to send a message they wouldn't take the chance that it would hurt anyone else on the road. When Rakes had wanted his attention he had his throat slit on his own front porch, there wasn't anything about the message that could get lost in translation.

"We been talkin' to local revenue agents," the Deputy added unnecessarily, "they swear that they ain't even been in this area past few weeks."

"What about Floyd Banner?" Sherriff Potts spoke up. "I been hearin' that Jack's doin' business with him from time to time, you think a deal went sour between them?"

"Yeah, thanks Sherriff. That's all we need now, you can go on." Forrest simply grunted, signaling the end of the conversation; dismissing the lawmen as if he was the one with the authority.

As the two local police walked away Howard turned to him with a puzzled look on his face, "This don't feel like the ATU, Forrest. Ain't the same as last time."

Forrest nodded and chewed his lip, itching to light up a cigar and let the tobacco help calm his thoughts so he could manage to think straight. "No, it ain't the ATU," He agreed, "When's the last time Jack sold to Banner?"

Howard rubbed his face and neck with his hand as he tried to think, "Gonna say it's been more than a month, at least. I remember it was the last real big batch we made in March that he took fifteen cases from."

He nodded quietly as he contemplated the fact that they were now possibly looking to go toe to toe with "Mad dog" Banner if he'd dared to attack them. But even _that_ thought didn't hang around for too long. When he'd been attacked the gangster had gone out of his way to separate himself from that sort of thing, going as far as supplying the names and addresses of the fuckers who did it.

Forrest's eyes darted up to see Bridget again and he wondered in passing if she had anyone after her. He ignored the thought in favor of walking towards her; he could deal with that later- right now the boy was his concern.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget wiped her eyes as she softly stroked Patrick's forehead, quietly singing a few folk songs that she used to sing with Mary when he was an infant.

She felt him as he entered the room, coming to stand directly behind her. She turned around and tried to give a weak smile to show her thankfulness for the simple gesture, but she doubted that her swollen cheeks and eyes presented a very enchanting visage. She looked like a damn mess- again.

"Mommy, Daddy?"

The tiny voice echoed through the room and both Bridget and Forrest's eyes widened at the sound. She whipped her head around to see Patrick's bright blue eyes fluttering open to search the room around them.

"Baby, its Auntie Bridget." She whispered as she rubbed his cheek. "I'm right here."

He blinked his eyes a couple of times and she could tell that he was having trouble focusing, either because of the accident or any medication he'd been given; she couldn't really be too sure. But he finally rolled his head to the side and saw them both; he frowned for a minute and spoke again, "Mommy and Daddy were here. But they told me to stay with you and Forrest."

Tears came to her eyes again as she leaned over to kiss him, his little voice sounded like an angel. He was talking…he was going to be alright and he was _talking_.

:o:o:o:o:o

She was physically and mentally exhausted.

Bridget had sat beside Patrick's bedside until well after ten. Doctor Mills finally came in the room and explained that the hospital needed to lock down for the night and that they needed to get on home. At first she had to fight the raging indignation that bubbled to the surface at the thought that this man was trying to separate her from her ill family. But the warm, calm presence of Forrest's hand on her shoulder stopped her before the tirade began.

"Come on, now. There ain't anythin' we can do here, you gotta go home and sleep so you can be here in the mornin'."

She nodded wordlessly and turned around for the door, looking in on each one of the sleeping angels before shuffling out to the truck and climbing inside with Forrest.

:o:o:o:o:o

The ride to the station was silent. Her head was pounding and her stomach hurt, she was starving but at the same time she wanted nothing to do with food at all.

"Are you hungry?" She asked as they walked into the door, walking back behind the bar out of habit.

Forrest shook his head and placed his hat on the corner of his usual table. "I don't want you cookin' tonight," He said quietly, his eyes on hers with an unspoken tone. "What can I get for you?"

"Oh, Forrest, you don't have to." Bridget sighed, "I am just fine."

A frown pulled at his full lips and he walked right over to her, standing close enough that she could smell him. Her hands balled into fists at her side and she had to fight against the urge to wind her arms around his waist and bury her face into his chest to feel that amazing sense of comfort once again.

He reached out and lifted her chin to meet his stare, "You need to eat somethin'. Now I don't care if it's nothin' but warm broth, but you have to eat."

She finally nodded in defeat, "Just chicken broth then. I'm goin' to lay down upstairs, let me know when it's ready."

Bridget trudged up the stairs and peeled out of her dress, throwing on her night shirt and robe and getting into bed, trying to fall asleep.

It wasn't fifteen minutes later that she heard a soft knock on her door and Forrest came in with a small tray with a bowl of broth and a cup of tea. By the scent she recognized the soothing, herbal smell of catnip and chamomile. She sat up and managed a weak "thank you" before he nodded and turned to leave.

She _really_ wasn't hungry. But after she heard him return in regular ten minute intervals, haunting at her doorstep she realized it was a lost cause and quickly drank down her cooling broth and her tea. She waited until he walked away again to place her empty tray in the hall and returned to her bed to pull the covers over her head.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget tried to get comfortable on the mattress, and though space wasn't a problem tonight, she missed the little mouth breathers that usually were making all sorts of little noises. It was usually enough to drown out the racing thoughts that plagued her constantly; they were her sense of security. Feeling little Patrick's hands curling in her hair or Katie talking in her sleep always let her know that everything was alright.

After tossing and turning for what felt like _hours_, she was so damn exhausted and frustrated that she was willing to do anything to get to sleep. She just needed comfort and warmth, another heartbeat to listen to.

Her gut twisted sharply with nerves when she realized that there was another person in the station who would no doubt be able to calm her mind and her body. She shook her head as she stared off into the darkness, was she seriously considering this?

It was improper and just plain wrong on so many levels. They hadn't discussed their situation after the "incident" in the field, and she hated herself that now she was referring to their encounter with such a negative term, as if it was a crime of some sort. But honestly, what sort of woman would she be to walk across the hall and crawl into bed with him? Worse yet, would he even want her to be there? What if he turned her out because he was offended?

Bridget's exhausted mind finally came to the conclusion that she didn't really care at the moment. She wasn't asking him to make love- did she just say that – she was asking him as one sibling to another for comfort as their family members lay in the hospital.

She stood up slowly and tied her robe tightly around her waist as she opened the door and peered across the darkened hallway. His door was open just a crack and thankfully the moon was casting enough of a glow that she could see where she was walking. Her bare feet were silent as she padded across the rough, wooden boards and in no time she was standing at his door.

Her heart was pounding as she opened it quietly and let herself step into his room. She was surprised to see him lying on a smaller wooden bed than was in the spare room; his eyes were wide open and staring at her with a strange look. A metallic gleam caught her eye and she realized it was a revolver tucked under his pillow. He pulled the worn, patchwork quilt up higher on his chest as he cleared his throat and spoke in an uncharacteristically nervous tone.

"Umm, what are you doin'?"

She had to fight to push a choking lump of nerves down her throat as she answered him, "I can't sleep alone. Please, can I stay with you?"

Forrest stared at her for another minute as she watched his hands wring the quilt, noticing that he was probably only had on the same ivory colored shirt that he'd worn today. Her cheeks glowed as she remembered that his other shirt was long enough that he hadn't been wearing anything underneath it the other day. She wondered if that was common for him.

When he still hadn't moved or blinked she realized that if she didn't walk across the floor and get in bed with him they were going to be looking at each other five hours from now when the sun came up. And damn it she needed to sleep. So it was the exhaustion, she reasoned, that had her take the final few steps to him and lift up the quilt before sliding underneath it and into his bed.

Bridget was surprised when he only froze for a second, before he let her turn sideways on the narrow bed and rest her head on his pillow. Her heart nearly stopped when he shifted a moment later and reached out to take her into his arms, pulling her tight to his body as her head came to rest on the solid, broad wall of his chest.

She breathed deeply, taking in his wonderful smell as she let the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her off to sleep, her body relaxing in an instant; as if recognizing before her head could bother to cloud her thoughts that it had finally found where it belonged.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: And the week rolls on…**

**Thanks to all who are reading, and please, please if you are enjoying leave a review…really it matters. : )**

**A little morning after, anyone?**

* * *

For the first time in as long as he could remember, well, discounting his recent hospital excursions the past year for being sliced open and shot, Forrest was not awake when four thirty came around. In fact he didn't open his eyes until a patch of bright sunlight snuck through the window and hit him square in the face. He went to sit up when he suddenly realized _why_ he hadn't moved.

Bridget was still sleeping peacefully in his bed, her head pillowed on his chest while her body pressed the along his side, and one of her long graceful legs rested high on his thigh. Everywhere around his bedroom all he could smell was the insanely intoxicating aroma of Ivory soap and… woman. She shifted slightly in her sleep, her hips canting and rocking against his body as a gasp of air puffed out of her lips and her thighs squeezed together to gently clasp his in a torturous vise. She was clearly dreaming, and by the roll of her waist and the excited breathing he could only imagine that it was something lustful in nature.

He bit down on his lip hard to try to stem the surge of arousal from flooding his system and instantly making him harder than a rock- it was a complete failure. How was he supposed to conduct himself? She had come to his room last night, obviously in distress, and he'd let her climb into his bed and innocently look for comfort. But as his body was beginning to rage to life he felt like he couldn't control himself around her. It had been two days since he'd tasted her mouth, her skin, and like a drunken man presented with a shot of the finest whiskey he wanted to consume her now more than ever. Damn it.

She suddenly shifted, lifting her head as her beautiful blue eyes languidly blinked open, staring at him while her thigh lifted higher to rub against his hardened length; caressing every aching inch from base to tip. The flimsy, thin fabric of his old shirt did nothing to protect him from her assault. He could feel the heat of her skin like he was completely stark naked, and as her leg lifted higher he felt his heart seize in his chest when he felt the fabric begin to climb up with it.

Forrest swallowed hard as she stared at him, unsure of what to do. His hands balled into fists and remained at his side; did she know what she was doing to him?

It was when she slowly lowered her leg and then began to slide it back up again, this time rubbing her buttery soft skin against his completely unencumbered, that he finally felt something let loose in his mind. He reached over to cup her delicate face in his hand and tilt it up to meet his, not bothering to wait at all for his mind to catch up to the screaming demand of his cock, as he took her mouth in a hard kiss. He groaned lowly as she gasped and immediately opened her mouth to his greedy tongue, letting him taste everything. He kissed her until he was gasping for breath before threading his hand into her hair to gently tug her head higher so he could reach the sensitive satiny skin of her throat. His lips grazed her pulse point, and an involuntary growl rumbled out as he felt the way her heart was racing, pounding for his touch.

There was no mistaking that she wanted this, him, again- and in the light of day.

Forrest rolled over onto his arms and began to pull her body underneath his; one of his large hands grabbed her hip to shift her weight as the other wound into the wild mass of curls on her head to claim her mouth again. He leaned in just as he felt her entire body stiffen and her eyes widened in shock. She began to shake and suddenly shoved all of her weight into his shoulder, tossing him off her body with a strength he didn't think she was capable of before scrambling off the bed and tumbling onto the floor.

Bridget shrieked as her bottom hit the wooden floor with a painful thud. She flailed her arms wildly as she pulled down her nightdress and panted as she tried to get control of herself. She'd been asleep; having a scandalous dream about the same man who was staring at her now with a mixture of lust, anger and confusion in his darkening grey gaze, but when she opened her eyes she found it was no dream. He was pulling her underneath him, and the bulging hardness she'd felt pressed against her stomach left no doubt what he'd intended to do.

"What are you doing?!" She cried. Admittedly not the smartest statement as it was blatantly obvious what he intended to do to her. The angry scowl that curled his full lips confirmed his irritation with the situation. She tried and failed desperately to ignore the glistening shine of his lips and the tingling of her own.

"You have no right to touch me like that without my permission!"

Her angry words had him getting up out of bed and she scurried to her feet as he stepped out of the quilt and left himself standing before her in nothing but his thin shirt, and it did _nothing_ to contain the rigid span of flesh that was rising for her attention. Bridget paused as he strode across the room with his finger angrily pointed at her face, "I did nothin' to you, you didn't ask for." His jaw clenched tightly as he seemed to be trying to deal with the fog of lust that was no doubt clouding his mind as well. "You were rubbin' up on me like a cat in heat beggin' for it, what did you want me to do?"

Her mouth dropped open at his crude insinuation and suddenly they were right back in that field again. Her temper returned and she stepped towards him, studiously ignoring the part of his body that was reaching forward. "How about showing some restraint and behaving like a gentleman!"

"Restraint?" Forrest growled angrily, "You may be able to shut down your body and be frigid but I ain't doin' it." He moved in and Bridget gasped as she felt his manhood against her stomach, his voice was still angry though his eyes were raging with desire, "I ain't in the habit of takin' someone to bed and never talkin' to 'em again."

Her eyes narrowed angrily as she tilted her chin in a defiant snap, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "Well, Forrest, you can rest easy, 'cause I don't remember you takin' me to your bed before, unless you sleep on a hay bale."

Forrest's furious eyes darted back and forth as he scanned hers, and Bridget felt herself literally begin to melt from the inside under his scrutiny. What was she thinking baiting him like that? An aching cramp began to settle between her legs and she couldn't control the way she instinctively leaned into the hardness that was pressed against her. He stepped closer and raised both hands to cup her face in them; the hot, eager pants of his breath fanned her face as his beautiful mouth drew closer to hers.

"Woman, so help me, if you don't want this you best leave right _now_. 'Cause after I have you, I ain't gonna stop." His voice was a rumbling whisper full of possession and dominance.

This was it, the line in the sand. Forrest was asking her for her consent, here in the stark light of day, with no anger or hostility to blame it on. Bridget knew what type of man he was; if she gave herself to him now he'd never let her go. But somehow, where that thought would have scared her to death even a week ago, now it gave her a feeling of such peace. He wasn't like Caleb; he would never leave her alone, he would always be there to protect her and her family. It was this realization that had her reaching up with shaking hands to touch his rough cheeks as she gently leaned in to touch his lips to hers.

There was no aggression in her kiss as she tentatively explored his mouth, her heart racing as she realized that she'd never been with a man like this before. He would see her- all of her.

Forrest's blood was roaring through his body, but all of the pent up frustration melted away when she touched him. Her hands were shaking, and it was time to treat her like he should have before. He stayed as still as he could, letting her petal soft lips pull at his, as her dainty pink tongue slipped into his mouth; the slow contact was driving him completely insane. The temperature on his skin spiked and suddenly the simple layer of cotton clothing he was wearing was stifling. He finally stepped away to pull his shirt over his head, sighing as the cool air hit his overheated body.

He'd have been lying if he said that the wide eyed way she stared at him didn't please him immensely. He knew he was built strong, though time had wounded and damaged him. Forrest let her look for a moment more before her stepped back, slipping a hand in her hair and pulling her back to his mouth again as his hand went to the tie on her robe. The old fabric gave away easily and he reached up to brush it off her shoulders before immediately going to slip the thin straps of the dress down, not willing to risk the chance that if he slowed down that she would stop.

The dress fell to her feet in a ripple of soft fabric and he felt her tremble against his hands. But he had to see her, and as he stepped back to take her in his heart squeezed in his chest. She was beautiful, endless plains of creamy white skin that looked as soft as silk. The full rounded globes of her breasts hung high despite their size, and were crowned with perfectly enticing pink nipples, the rosy buds hardening deliciously in the cool air. His eyes journeyed further down to the fleshy curve of her hips and there, between her thighs a small patch of dark hair that hid her from him.

Forrest went to reach out for her when he suddenly realized that her hands had come up to cover herself from him- but not the areas that he would have thought. One hand lay over the side of her stomach and the other had fallen to her thigh. He furrowed his brow in confusion as he slowly pulled her arms away, and what he saw had him grinding his teeth in rage. White scar tissue wrapped around her waist, a perfect thin line, and above that was another. The ones on her thigh were worse; the sensitive flesh was raised with the remnants of angry cuts. Someone had beaten her, and judging by the age of the scars she'd dealt with it for a long time. A growl fell from his lips and he clenched his fists, he wanted to tear apart the person who dared to touch her like that. But he softened when he saw the tears falling from her eyes. She kept her gaze on the floor as shame stained her cheeks red.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I understand if you don't want to touch me."

He couldn't reply to her words or the emotion in them, he didn't know how to put what he felt into speech. Here he stood before her, a sliced up, bullet-wounded man, and she felt unworthy around _him_. So he did the only thing he could think of to show her that he didn't want her because she was a painted doll, he wanted her because she was the only woman who had ever rattled him to the point of no return. He fell to his knees and reached out with his hands to grab her hips, pulling her body closer so he could put his mouth on the marred flesh, tenderly tracing it with his tongue before suckling on it.

He felt a breathy moan of surprise fall from her mouth as he continued to kiss her skin, her trembling hands coming up to thread into his short hair to hold on. Forrest couldn't help himself from moving lower to find the raised scar on her inner thigh and treating it with the same care.

The skin here was so soft he couldn't stop the low groan that came up from his body. He'd always been a man inclined to enjoying sweet desserts, but the more he tasted her, he was pretty sure there wasn't going to be anything baked in an oven that would ever tempt him more that this again. Forrest moved his hands to the fleshy mounds of her backside to grip her more eagerly and there too, amongst the smoothness, he could feel the odd patch of scar tissue.

It was enough to make him pull his head away and stare up at her, and even though he was the one on his knees she looked like the vulnerable one. Her eyes were shut tight and her shallow breaths were making her chest rise and fall in quick waves. She was biting down hard on her lip and she was literally clasping her hands to his head. He was afraid that he'd upset her, until her eyes opened up and stared at him; there wasn't fear reflected in them, or shame- instead he saw them full of want and something deeper.

Forrest stood instantly, scooping her easily into his arms and carrying her the short distance back to his small bed. For once he cursed his simple tastes and wished for something that would better accommodate them, and in the same instant he almost smiled at the thought that he planned on taking her often enough that he'd better get to work on making one.

He gently set her down and let her settle before climbing on, making sure to pause for a moment so he could take in the way she looked- here on his bed. He recalled thinking she looked incredible in the storm, wild and untamed, but now that same beautiful creature looked so incredibly delicate. All soft skin, long limbs and wide-eyed as if she'd never felt anything like this before…and he supposed, truthfully, he hadn't either.

There had been others, when he'd been a younger man with free time on his hands and whiskey in his blood. But that had been nothing more than the scratch of an itch. A purely physical release that held nothing in it, but with Bridget he _wanted_ to wake up next to her like he had this morning for the rest of his life.

He reached out with a rough palm to touch her face again, bringing his mouth to hers to calm her nerves and her racing heart. He wanted her to enjoy this more than anything; she wouldn't lift a single finger today in any type of work. It was her turn to be served and attended to. Though as his mouth ghosted from her lips, over her chin and down her neck to find the exposed skin of her chest he had to admit this was far from disagreeable manual labor.

A high, gasping moan filled his ears as his beard scraped the tender mound of her breast and at the sound he increased his efforts. One hand coming up to attend the other peak as he lavished every inch of it with attention, making sure there wasn't anything left without feeling his tongue or his lips before he finally latched onto the hard, little pink center that strained for contact. He suckled her eagerly as a baby would, and he breathed hard through his nose when he felt her arch her back and moan again, this time much louder.

He pulled his head back and moved to the other peak, enjoying the way his beard was leaving a reddened trail down her pale skin. It would be a reminder when this was all said and done that he would be able to look at again to remember instantly what they'd done.

His hand abandoned its place on her chest to begin to travel lower, as if pulled by instinct alone it trailed across the flat plane of her stomach before his thick fingers slipped between her thighs. A loud moan of his own echoed out through the room when he threaded his fingers between the folds of her femininity to discover that she was already completely damp with slick, warm moisture. He continued to move, tracing up to the top of her and parting the skin to find the tiny little hardened nub he had been lucky enough to discover on a woman sometime ago, teasing it gently with the tip of his finger.

Forrest froze with shock when he suddenly felt her hand shoot down to grab his arm, her nails digging in as she arched her back again and threw her head against the pillow, her eyes were squeezed shut as a hoarse cry strangled out of her throat. The sight almost made him lose it like a school boy, and he felt the tiny part of her twitch against his hand- he'd brought her _there-_ and in minutes, after barely touching her. It made his masculine ego swell enough to make his cock envious. He wanted to beat his chest in triumph like a goddamn cave man, and he was determined to make it happen again.

He took a deep breath to bring himself back under control; he was so hard he didn't know how his heart was still managing to pump anything at all in his body and it was starting to make him lightheaded. He shook his head hard back and forth and waited for her to settle down onto the bed again, opening her blue eyes to look at him with wonder.

A small smile tugged at the side of his mouth as he settled between her legs, his arms bracing his heavy weight on either side of her so he could stare down at her face. This had been missing the last time they'd been together, she'd felt pleasure, he was sure of it, but when she climaxed she'd closed her eyes. This time he wanted her to look at him when it happened, so they would both know, without a shadow of a doubt what was happening.

Though when he felt her shift her hips into position and the warm wetness touched his eager flesh his eyes almost rolled back in his head. She took the lead, capable as always, and his hands fisted into the sheets as her delicate hand snaked between their bodies to take hold of him and position him at her entrance, wiggling her body slightly so the tip of him could sink in. Forrest felt himself panting open mouthed like a dog as he rose up on his knees to roll his hips and thrust hard all the way in.

She felt like heaven. Warm, wet and so damn snug- she fit him like a tailored glove and he never _ever_ wanted to be away from this. His hand moved to her face again and her stroked her cheek with his thumb as he let himself slowly withdraw and slide back in again, the feeling so intense he felt it rocket down the length of his body to his toes.

Bridget's eyes fluttered closed as he picked up the rhythm, keeping the pace slow, but driving in deep, grinding against her pelvis with every move. He stared down at her face, watching as her cheeks flushed and her breathing hitched, amazed as he suddenly felt her raising her lower body to meet his push for push, a stream of little gasps and moans falling from her lips each time he reached her limit. It was driving him absolutely insane and he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.

His body was screaming for release the way a drowning man's lungs burn for air…and then he had to bite on his tongue hard enough to bleed when he felt her body tighten around him as a desperate whisper passed her lips.

"Harder…_please_…Forrest..._please_."

Her voice was breathy and low, dripping with lust and Christ, she could have asked him in that moment to gnaw off his own fucking hand and present it to her as long as she kept saying his name like that. What could he do but oblige her?

He let himself maneuver slightly to get the leverage and angle he needed before he grabbed her hip in his hand and started to buck into her harder and faster. He was rewarded instantly when her inner walls clamped down and she cried out. He could feel something actually changing in her body and he knew she was close, that he was going to bring her again. Her eyes clamped shut and he lowered his forehead to hers before managing to grunt out a simple command.

"Look at me."

Bridget's blue eyes opened and met his just as he felt her body began to shudder and quake, rippling waves taking hold of his member as she released in a silent scream. Tears spilled out as she gasped for air, and he bowed his head to kiss them away as he moved again, this time wrapping his arms around her tightly, pressing his chest to hers as he held her close.

It wasn't long, the pent up arousal and emotion from the entire morning overwhelmed him, and after a few shallow thrusts he felt his own climax imminent- surging through him with heart stopping force. A choked snarl rattled in his chest as the weakening undulation of her insides helped to milk his seed out in a long pull.

He felt the most blissful feeling of lazy contentment as he came down, his breathing returning to normal as his head began to resume a pattern of calm thinking. She was still in his arms, shivering as the morning air rushed to cover their rapidly cooling bodies. But as he looked down into her face he couldn't help but smile slightly as she reached between them to touch his lips lightly before cupping his cheek and kissing him softly once again.

Forrest could feel his arms weaken and he didn't want to collapse and hurt her, so instead he gently withdrew himself from her body, feeling dampness as a small amount of their joining spilled out onto the sheet and rolled onto his back. He reached down to grab the discarded quilt as he arranged her limp and sated body on his chest again, mirroring the same position that they woke up in before covering them both with the blanket.

Her fingers came up to gently stroke the broad wall of his chest and he could tell that she was awake and lost in thought. He wanted to say something to her, ask her if she was alright, but he hated his lack of verbal prowess and he didn't know just how to put it into words without being brutish. So instead he simply wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed the crown of her head, breathing deep into her hair with a contented sigh, hoping she understood him.

:o:o:o:o:o

It was eight thirty in the morning and his brother wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Howard frowned as he tried the front door of the station for the hundredth time to discover that it was, indeed, locked. He turned around to see that the truck was still parked in the driveway and Bridget's car was still out by the shed…so where in the hell _was_ everyone.

His stomach growled loudly and he frowned at the thought that he had somehow missed out on eating breakfast. Then he actually laughed at the fact that a couple of weeks ago he would have been lucky to want to eat more than a half a plate of food in the afternoon when he'd had his fill of drinking for the morning. _Then _he realized that he couldn't remember the last morning he'd woken up without the shakes and the need to drink half a jar of rot gut before he could even move.

He shook his head and walked to the back of the station, it was funny to think that the only thing that had changed in their lives were two women and a little boy, yet for the first time since his parents had died they felt like a family again. Not that his bond with his brothers had ever faltered, but it was different having women in the house to cook meals and take care of them.

A strange pang of something akin to jealousy suddenly pricked at his gut. Forrest was going to end up marrying Bridget. Somehow the man who grunted more than he spoke and had the personality cuddly as a porcupine had managed to make a woman as good as their own Momma fall head over heels in love with his dumb ass. Even Jack had snagged a cute young thing for himself.

Now, it wasn't to say that he begrudged either of them the love of a good woman, but for the first time since he was a teenager he began to think about himself and a wife. Before the war he'd almost married a sweet local girl, Clara Middleton, but her father hadn't been too keen on making his seventeen-year-old daughter a war bride. So he left alone.

Howard closed his eyes and shook his head as he tried to avoid the feeling of terror and dread that began to creep into his mind. He knew that he didn't come back from war a well man; he'd seen and done too many things to ever feel innocent again. Living through that sort of hell makes it tough to think of flowers, weddings and babies.

But it had been almost fifteen years since he'd been home, and he was suddenly beginning to realize that drowning himself in corn wasn't the way that he wanted to spend the rest of his life. After all Forrest was always saying that prohibition wouldn't last forever and they needed to think about life beyond bootlegging.

He rubbed his nose and stared at the backdoor, reaching underneath one of the loose clapboard shingles for the spare key; there was talk about the textile mills down in Martinsville looking for machinists, he'd done that kind of work before, maybe he'd talk to Forrest about it.

With a quiet shove he pushed open the door and walked in, noticing that the first floor was completely silent and Forrest's office door was still closed and locked. A tiny bit of alarm went through him and he wanted to make sure his little brother was alright, he _never_ overslept.

Howard walked up the narrow stairs and noticed the door to the spare room was open and the unmade bed was empty. Before his head could process the thought, a loud and _very_ feminine warble caught his ear. His face instantly went bright red when he then heard the unmistakable sound of his brother's low voice, growling and grunting in a very particular rhythm…aww_ shit_.

* * *

**So…I am pretty sure the book has Howard married before he leaves for war…but judging by the Epilogue in the movie, he wasn't 'till **_**after**_** in that little adaptation…so conveniently, we're gonna go with that, alright?**


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: And here we have sweetness and calm...'cause we all know _nothing_ can go wrong when everything is fluffy and warm ; ).**

**Please read and review...it makes my day...don't make me beg!**

**And for Mals86...more Howard for you : ).**

* * *

"Motorcycle racing."

Katie scrunched up her face as she looked over at Jack. They were sitting in their hospital beds trying to find something to do so they wouldn't go stir crazy. The doctor had informed them both this morning that the three of them would be staying one more night to make sure that there weren't any head injuries that went misdiagnosed. Even little Patrick's bed had been brought into their room for recovery, and while none of them were in too much pain, the boredom was threatening to kill them.

After a disappointing and disgustingly bland breakfast of plain oatmeal and toast, they had settled on playing a few games. The latest of which was announcing which daredevil feat they'd try if given the opportunity. Patrick was eager to join in on the game and announced, in his perfect little voice, he would be a "bank robber". It had both the young couple's eyebrows rising up into their hairline.

Jack had settled on the obvious racing remark.

"Really? In the whole, entire world, you just wanna drive a motorcycle in a circle as fast as you can?" She replied.

"Heck yeah, they can get those things to do a hundred miles an hour."

"And when you fall off?" She needled.

Jack laughed, "Lucky I can't die." She rolled her eyes and he winked at her playfully. "Well, alright, Miss Smarty-pants, what about you then?"

Katie thought a minute before answering, "High diving horses, I'd be one of those diving girls."

He looked completely puzzled, "What in the heck is that?"

A big smile spread across her face and her eyes lit up with excitement as she explained, "At the Steel Pier in Atlantic City, they have these acts and horses literally run up a ramp and at the last minute a girl jumps on and they dive off into a huge pool- like sixty feet down!"

"No way, that's impossible. Horses can't swim."

"Of course they can swim," She scoffed. "And I know it's real, Me, Bridget and Mary saw it once at the county fair when I was little."

"Those divin' girls wear swimsuits?"

Katie sat up and looked over at him, "Yeah, why?"

He leaned back on his pillow and curled his good arm behind his head, closing his eyes and letting out an exaggerated sigh, "Just picturin' you in one."

She huffed in mock annoyance and ended up giggling, "Jack Bondurant, you are five kinds of crazy."

"You love me for it."

Katie reached out across the small gap between their beds to gently grab his injured hand and hold it as best she could. "I sure do, honey, even if you can't drive worth a damn."

He only squeezed her hand in reply, before rolling his head to look at her again. "I thought Bridget and Forrest would be here by now to visit."

Katie sighed, "Me too. Wonder why they are late."

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget couldn't wipe the smile from her face, and quite frankly she wasn't sure if she was ever going to be able to do so. She stood in front of her bedroom mirror and tried to braid her damp hair with still shaking hands. It was a little before ten in the morning, and God help her, she'd never slept in this late when she wasn't ill or injured…and she _certainly _never rose this late because she had spent the entire morning engaged in the type of activities that should have her going to visit a priest to beg for forgiveness!

She bit her still kiss-swollen lips when memories instantly washed over her body. She'd always known that she'd never met a man like Forrest before, and now she was willing to say that God must have broke the mold when he made such a creature. He was masculine on a level that she didn't even consider possible, and not only his physical form, though that was amazingly pleasing, but it was how he managed to be so dominant and so tender at the same time that took her breath away. A tingle began again low in her body, and she couldn't believe the flesh that was slightly sore from his generous size and thorough attention was coming to life again.

Lord in heaven, she wanted more of him already.

Bridget giggled to herself as she realized that he'd brought her to the end more than once _both_ times he'd made love to her. She didn't even know it was possible to do something like that. Though it really didn't surprise her, he was so diligent and precise with the way he did everything else, it only seemed natural that he would be a perfectionist as a lover.

The notion that she would even say the world "lover" was enough to make her roll her eyes; she could actually hear her sister Mary egging her on with some sort of vulgar and inappropriate comment about how to please a man in ways that were _not_ in the good book. It really was a terrible sin that she'd never be able to meet the three wonderful men, though a tiny part of her was relieved- Mary and Howard in the same room would have been a little more than she would have been able to bear. She finished sliding on her mauve dress and freshened up her face with a little powder to help keep the glowing flush of her cheeks under control before standing up and walking downstairs to make something to eat- she was starving.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget walked out onto the main floor of the station to see Forrest already at his usual seat, ledgers and account books next to him, while Howard sat across from him with a coffee mug in his hand, his green eyes staring off into space. Though as she came closer to them she noticed that the strange look in his eye wasn't due to the glassy influence of whiskey- it was something else. Her nose instantly wrinkled as she caught a whiff of the god-awful scorched liquid that he was drinking; she knew it was supposed to have been coffee, but….no. She quickly made her way around the bar to dump out the percolator and put something new on for all of them. As a reminder of her current state, her stomach growled loudly and she paused for a second, wondering what she wanted to make for their very tardy breakfast meal.

When the coffee was brewed she grabbed a new mug for Howard, one for herself, and Forrest, and brought the hot pot to the table so she could pour them all a fresh cup. She smiled as Forrest immediately sipped on his, breathing in the aroma as he always did, as if he found enjoyment in the smell of the steaming brew itself.

"Did you want me to make some breakfast?" She asked quietly, the contentment in her body evident in her voice.

He looked up from his notes and a small smile pulled at the corner of his full lips that were stained with the same kiss swollen color as hers. "I could eat."

It was the same conversation they'd had countless times before, though now Bridget noticed that his stormy grey eyes didn't look away from her when she stared at him. He didn't bother to hide the desire and lust, that after all the satisfaction they'd shared this morning, still burned in his gaze. That alone reignited the dull, warm throb between her legs. "Are you hungry for anything in particular?" Bridget asked as her voice deepened, ignoring the scandalous way her words could have been taken.

"Aww, Christ!" Howard groaned loudly pushing his chair from the table and crossing his arms as he fixed them both with an aggravated stare. "Come on, now! I ain't listenin' to this after what I already heard this mornin'. Woman, he'll eat anythin' _you_ put on his plate, so there's no need to talk about it."

Bridget's mouth fell into an "O" of surprise at his outburst and her entire body turned bright red from head to toe. He _heard_ them?! With absolute horror she realized that she hadn't been very quiet, she thought they were alone in the station, and now Forrest's brother had heard her moaning- worse yet, had he heard her when she wantonly asked him in the throes of passion to give her more?

Forrest's instantly frowned as he fixed his brother with an angry glare, "Didn't have anythin' else to do this mornin' but haunt my doorstep like a nosy old woman?"

"Place was locked up tight at eight thirty in the goddamn mornin', Forrest, and your ass ain't ever been fond of sleepin' in. How in the hell was I supposed to know you two finally got your heads out from your rear ends and got down to it? Now, I ain't complainin', 'cause Lord knows you both needed it. Just don't want to hear about it all damn day."

He grumbled to himself before narrowing his eyes, "Well my business is my business, Howard, and I'll talk however I fuckin' please in my own place, you got that?"

The brothers stared off at each other silently before Howard relented with a shit-eating grin. "Alright, little brother, damn – don't you go and get yourself all worked up again, or you're gonna end up wearin' that poor, sweet woman out before the day is done."

"Fuck you, Howard."

Bridget had to turn her back and cover her mouth to stop the laugh that tried to pour out at the petulant and vulgar remark that she'd so often heard from Jack. The humor almost made up for the absolutely mortifying revelation…almost.

:o:o:o:o:o

The three of them had eaten the breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast in a companionable silence. Both men still managing to put away so much food, she swore she was still cooking for six. Bridget sipped her coffee and cleared her throat, "I wanted to go to the hospital for a little while today. I am sure they'll be wanting a good lunch after eating that awful food."

Forrest nodded, "Yeah, alright. Ain't gonna open up today, anyhow, just hang around for the odd sale I suppose."

"Do you think they'll be home soon?" She asked quietly, looking around the empty table and missing every one of them terribly.

He shrugged, "Cut throat only had me in there for four days; pretty sure two will do it for them."

Bridget tapped on her mug and looked up at Howard, "Do you think you could get me three real nice beef steaks today? I'd love to make something special for dinner. You both deserve it after everything you've done."

He stood up and smiled, "Woman, I swear, his dumb ass don't marry you, I will." Howard ignored the irritated grunt from Forrest and put his hat back on, "Got a nice cut that'll give us some good pieces. What time you want 'em?"

"How about be back here for five." She answered, studiously disregarding the marriage comment.

"Alright," He shot Forrest a quick look over his shoulder as he turned for the door, "I'm headin' up to the still to check that corn we got sproutin' and then to the barn." His little brother gave him a cut nod before cracking open his ledgers and getting back to work.

Bridget quickly cleaned up their dishes before making a couple sandwiches, including the ham salad she knew Jack loved, and wrapped them up into a small basket with a few fresh berries and cream for dessert. She placed it on the table as she walked around to grab her car key, looking up to notice Forrest checking out the contents- the whipped cream in particular. "I'm gonna go now, I'll be back in a few hours. You want anythin' special for dessert tonight?"

She could have sworn his entire face was bright red and he shifted in his seat before answering, "Umm…nothin' special. Just, uh, somethin' sweet, I don't like raisins, is all. Unless you want to use them, then I'll still eat it."

A genuine smile warmed her entire body as she answered, the giddy feeling making her bold with her words and her tone. "Don't worry; I'll make sure I find you somethin' plenty sweet to enjoy, Forrest." She listened to him nervously grumble for a few moments before leaning down and giving him a chaste but lingering kiss on the cheek and walking away with a swing in her hips that she knew he was watching.

:o:o:o:o:o

Katie yawned and stretched stiffly as she woke up from her fourth cat nap, her bones popping loudly as she settled back into the bed. She glanced over where Jack should have been and was concerned when she found his bed empty. Nervously she sat up and scanned the room, relaxing when she noticed that he was standing across the room, leaning against the door, talking to a very thin fellow. She took in the man's gaunt and sallow face with a bit of apprehension; she'd never seen him before, but taking one look at him she didn't trust him in the least.

A few minutes and a hand shake later Jack walked back to the bed and gingerly sat back down. Katie didn't want to pry so she wasn't very keen on asking him about his business.

"That was Gummy Walsh," Jack offered with a nod to the now empty doorway. "Guy's about as big a weasel as they come, but he's Floyd Banner's errand boy 'round here."

"Oh," Katie answered quietly, suddenly realizing that the novelty of being with someone who, like her father, walked on both sides of the law was a little more romantic than the reality. "What did he want?"

Jack shrugged and picked a thread on his bed sheet, "Nothin' much."

She suddenly didn't want him to think she was nosing into his business; it wasn't her place as a woman. "You don't have to tell me, Jack, I'm sorry for askin' I know it's not my place."

He looked at her with surprise on his face. "Why would you be sorry? I want you to know; I want you to be my partner and know all my stuff."

She blushed and smiled, "Thanks, Jack."

"Anyways, he was just sayin' Banner wanted to talk as soon as I get outta here. He's lookin' for another delivery. I told him I'd be out tomorrow and able to see him in the afternoon." He paused for a minute before looking at her with an unusually serious look on his face. "Gummy said he overheard from Sherriff Potts that my brake lines were messed with, Banner wants to talk 'bout that too."

Katie's blue eyes went as wide as saucers, "Someone did that to you on purpose?"

He shrugged, "Don't really know. But I don't want Forrest to get involved 'till I talk to Banner. This is my problem and I'll be dealin' with it myself, ain't my brother's mess. So keep it between you and me, alright? You can't tell Bridget, 'cause you know it'll get back to him."

She nodded, "Alright."

The prospect of hiding something like this from her sister did not sit well with her, but it had to be done. If Jack was going to be her husband eventually, he needed to be able to trust her. No sooner did the conversation end than her sharp nose picked up the delicious smell of food, ham salad to be specific – speak of the devil.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget sat with Patrick as the three of them finished their desserts with smiles on their faces. It was nice to see something so simple was so greatly appreciated.

"The doctor said we can go home in the morning," the little boy explained. "Then Jack and Katie said that was a good thing 'cause the food here is gross and if they had to go one more day they were gonna starve. But they waited to say that 'till the doctor was gone."

She smiled and nodded, as he thoroughly recounted the morning and everything that had happened when he wasn't napping, which he also explained to her that he had done a lot on account of the fact that he was very tired. The whole thing had her wanting to laugh out loud, both Mary and James had talked incessantly about everything and anything, and it surely seemed that now their son would be following in those footsteps.

"Where's Forrest?" He asked quietly. "I wanted to see him."

"He's busy watching the station, honey; you know he is always very busy." Bridget answered. "But you'll see him tomorrow."

Patrick nodded and looked up at her, "When you marry Forrest is he gonna want to be like my daddy and take care of me same as you do? I want him to; I'll be very good so I won't make him mad. I won't talk much to him, 'cause I know he likes to be neat and quiet."

Bridget was taken completely off guard by the young boy's question. "I…well…I am not sure that Forrest and I are gonna get married. But I'll always be here to take care of you."

"But he loves you and you love him," he persisted, "you get married when you love each other."

She couldn't believe that she was having this conversation with a seven-year-old, and worse yet, the damn two busy bodies from across the room were beginning to get _very_ interested in the topic at hand.

"Well, baby, things aren't always that simple when you grow up. But I love _you_ very much, and I know that Forrest likes you too, so you never have to worry about anyone not takin' care of you, alright?"

Patrick nodded slowly, "Yes. I'm gonna ask him tomorrow about it."

Bridget shook her head with a rueful smile as she saw both Jack and Katie laughing at them. Apparently the good Lord had answered her prayers about Mary being able to meet the Bondurants after all.

:o:o:o:o:o

She stayed with them until about four o'clock. By then Patrick had started to doze off again and even Katie and Jack were starting to yawn. She spoke with Doctor Mills briefly and he'd let her know that the three of them would be free to go the following morning after ten.

The drive back to the station was a short one, though she was infinitely pleased when she saw a cute little roadside stand just on the outskirts of Main Street that was selling baskets of early peaches and pears. Now these were probably still going to be a little tart from the time of the season, but with a little sugar it wouldn't be long until they were just perfect.

She smiled at the little pin-thin girl and boy who was sitting at the ramshackle table that was nothing more than a hen crate, and paid an extra quarter for the food, telling them that it was for their time. The poor little things looked like they hadn't eaten a good meal in days and there was a large part of her that wanted to go home and bring them back a sandwich.

It was a moment of humbling realization that reminded her it wasn't very long ago that she'd gone weeks without a full meal just so Patrick and Katie could eat, just another reason to be so very thankful for everything that had come to pass.

:o:o:o:o:o

The station was completely empty with the exception of Howard and Forrest, who were deep in conversation about corn germination and a recipe for brandy when she walked in, balancing the baskets of fruit.

"Afternoon, Bridget," Howard called out with a smile, "how is my pain-in-the-ass baby brother doin'?"

"Howard Bondurant, that is not nice to say about him, and he seems to be just fine." She replied smoothly as she set everything down on the bar and walked over to inspect the butcher paper package of meat he delivered as promised. She sighed as she looked at the fat steaks, at least an inch and a half thick, with the bone still in. They were beautiful and would have gotten a good price for sale.

"You like 'em?" He asked.

"They're beautiful, and too much. You'd have gotten a good price for these." She answered.

He looked over at Forrest and shrugged, "Yeah, but I ain't had a good steak in years, figured I owed it to myself and this fool here to eat well."

Bridget nodded and walked around the counter to wash her hands and tie her apron around her waist, "Oh, you'll eat well, I promise you that."

:o:o:o:o:o

Eating well was an understatement; she'd really out done herself…again. She'd cooked the steaks perfectly and smothered them in a peppercorn cream sauce, serving it on a plate of whipped mashed potatoes with a side of fresh greens and delicious sweet tea. The table was completely silent for the duration of the meal with the exception of the occasional sigh of pure contentment. Bridget cleaned off the plates when they were done, only to reappear with small bowls full of buttery cake topped with a warm sauce made with the peaches and pears and a_ lot_ of sugar.

The minute she put the plate down, Howard sprung up and grabbed a jar of apple brandy and three glasses; pouring out a little into each, explaining that something "this goddamn good deserved a little fuckin' celebration".

Bridget didn't drink…actually, it wasn't that she _didn't_ drink; she just didn't do it often. It had been at least five years since she'd had any…and when she was loudly laughing at Howard's stories it was obvious why. The strong brandy had a burning bite that was mellowed with the tart taste of apple and a buttery smooth cinnamon finish, it deliciously warmed her stomach and she could feel her cheeks flushing red. She had to admit that she could see why people were buying this stuff by the case.

"You remember that time we told Jack about the bull?!" Howard howled as he leaned back in his chair. Forrest nodded with a smile as he took a healthy swallow off his glass, pouring them each a little more. Bridget raised her eyebrow at the story that she knew was coming.

He took a deep breath to concentrate and looked at her, "Alright, so our Daddy had this old bull that was mean as fuck and he tells Forrest and me that we gotta nut 'em so he can send him off to slaughter. So Jackie's bein' nosy as always and while we're doin' it and I tell him to watch out for him later 'cause we're takin' his nuts and he's gonna want new ones. So, when I'm talking to him, Forrest slips some sugar cubes in the back pocket of his overalls- and we stuck him in the pen and watched him scream like a goddamn little girl as this bull followed him around yellin' that he don't wanna loose his nuts!" Howard started laughing so hard that he almost fell off his chair, his fists pounded on the table as tears streamed down his face.

"Awww," Bridget sighed with an exaggerated frown, "That's horrible! You two should be ashamed!" Her hands flew up to try to stop the squealing giggle that came out of her mouth.

A loud cough next to her got her attention and she noticed that Forrest's face was bright red, right before he burst into a loud, husky laugh himself. She couldn't help but stare as his grey eyes were lit up in a way she'd never seen before, completely happy and unguarded- it was beautiful.

:o:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget walked up the stairs to her bedroom a few hours later, and she sighed as she felt wonderfully light headed. Not enough to call herself drunk, but enough that the little voice in her head was nothing more than a whisper. She stood in front of her mirror and loosened her hair, brushing out her long curls. She smiled when she heard Forrest's heavy steps climbing up and then walking to the middle of the hallway, where he paused for a very long moment before turning out the light and walking into his bedroom. Bridget waited for a few minutes and she couldn't help but shake her head. After everything that happened this morning he was still going to make her take the lead?

Well, he _had_ told her that she didn't need to ask permission before taking anything around here.

With a sigh she stripped off her plain dress and slip before going to her trunk and digging around at the very bottom for a little package wrapped in delicate paper. It had been the only luxury she'd ever saved up and bought for herself, a very pale pink silk and lace nightgown that she'd wanted to wear on her wedding night.

As she put the dress on she shivered, the material was so flimsy it was almost non-existent. The very thin straps led to a plunging neckline that was lined with delicate mesh lace, exposing the round shape of her breasts, leaving only the point of her rosy nipples behind a silk barrier; the rest of it was fitted, showing her curves and fell to just below her knee where it was trimmed with more lace.

Bridget's hands were uncharacteristically calm as she touched up her makeup and put a very small amount of perfume behind her ear. It was only an inexpensive eau de toilette that lightly smelled of roses, but it made her feel pretty. She bravely finished it off with a swipe of red lipstick, blotting it with tissue until most of it was wiped off and she was sure it wouldn't make a mess, before she stared at herself in the mirror. She was going to do this. She was going to walk right across the hallway, into his room and take control the same way he had, because she wanted this…and him…and not just for tonight.

She turned around and took a deep breath, shutting off the light and opening the door into the dark hallway. She waited for her breathing to calm and her eyes to adjust to the moonlight before she walked across to his door, pushing it open slowly and standing at the foot of his bed, just as she had the previous night. Her voice trembled slightly as she held up her head, letting the brandy give her bravery as she spoke, "Are you gonna make me come to you every night?"

* * *

**So, couple notes: **

**One: in reference to Patrick's speech, I did a bunch of research on Selective Mutism, (I have my degree in Psychology) and it is a rather interesting psychological disorder as it is often caused by trauma in children and one day can just turn off and they resume completely normal speech patterns. Unfortunately they also may never speak again...but of the cases with positive outcomes it is normally due to the child feeling safe and secure. **

**Two: The diving girls that Katie is referencing is inspired by one of my all time favorite movies from the early '90's "Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken", it's an amazing movie I adore, and I highly recommend it if you love horses, inspiration and crying. **

**And um...oh my...apparently brandy makes you brave ; ).**


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: Originally I had this chapter planned out differently...but then I couldn't post last night and I just started writing...and apparently I had some interesting thoughts goin' on :). So yeah, this is a teeny bit of plot and a lot of sweet love... ; ). **

**Occasionally it needs to happen...  
**

**Please leave a review...okay? Thanks! **

* * *

"_Are you gonna make me come to you every night?"_

Her breathless words hung between them, and in the moonlight she saw his jaw tense and his hands clutch at the quilt, it only took a moment for her to realize that he wasn't wearing anything at all. Was he waiting? Her brandy addled thoughts were racing as she felt her nipples harden and her core come to life with a molten wave. The lust burning in his grey eyes was setting her on fire and she crossed the room with soundless steps, pulling back the blanket with surprising strength to expose him to her hungry hands. His body took her breath away again, and she was getting a feeling that seeing the beautiful expanse of his solid and sturdy form would never, ever get old. And _that_ part of him stood up tall and proud, seeming to reach out for her.

Where this morning she was tentative and nervous, concerned about what he would think, tonight she was filled with nothing but the incredible memory of what being with him could feel like. Bridget was silent as she moved onto the bed, first thinking that she was going to lie next to him, but then, feeling brave, she threw a long leg across his body so she was straddling his stomach. A breathy sigh fell from her lips as she lifted the silk dress up her thighs so nothing but the hot, damp flesh between her legs pressed flush against the flat wall of hard muscle.

Forrest drew a sharp breath through his nose at the contact, but he didn't move an inch. She watched as he stared up at her silently, the ridged set of his shoulders showing the amazing strength he was barely managing to keep under control. Bridget saw his throat working as he swallowed hard, and suddenly her eyes fell on the deep line that stretched across from ear to ear. Sadness began to mingle with her passion, making the strength of the emotions all the more powerful. He'd knelt before her and put his mouth on the parts of her that hurt the most, as if apologizing for them in the only way he could. Now she was compelled with a powerful urge to do the same to the ones that marred his body, to thank him for being strong enough to survive them all. She was so very gentle as she let her hand come up to cup his face and tilt it back just enough so she could place her lips on his neck in a gossamer light kiss.

An almost pained groan rumbled through his body at the contact, the vibration flowing into her body as his rough hands came up to gently touch the silk fabric pooled on her thighs. Bridget smiled against his skin as she moved slowly across his neck, not leaving an inch of the scar untouched as she alternated between feather light kisses and a gentle, slow trace with her tongue. She went to move to the raised patch of skin on his right shoulder where she was sure a bullet must have gone through him, when one of his large hands moved to grab the side of her face, sliding to up to tangle in her curls and pull her head up to meet his mouth.

His full, soft lips claimed hers eagerly, as his tongue immediately demanded entrance and she gave it with a moan of bliss. His kiss was somehow tender and hungry at the same time and she couldn't help but marvel at the way that he took control even as he lay on his back. He tasted faintly of sweet apples, peaches and a sharp tang from the brandy, it was luscious and she felt drunk off him. Warm palms slid down from her shoulders to grasp her hips and squeeze with a gentle insistence, pushing her to sit up. Bridget complied and swallowed nervously as his hands followed her arching back, skating over the thin silk to leave a patch of scorching heat from her stomach to the heavy fullness of her breasts. His hands were almost reverent as they caressed the soft mounds of flesh, his thumbs rubbing her hardened nipples through the lace; the delicate fabric was just rough enough to scrape the sensitive skin but was so thin it felt like she was wearing nothing at all.

She could feel her eye lids going heavy as she stared down at him, letting a long, high-pitched moan fall from her lips as more wetness pooled between her legs. Forrest's heated gaze stared right back, and he began to work the dress slowly up her hips, gathering the buttery material in his hands as calloused palms skated over impossibly smooth skin. Bridget helped him, taking it over her head and letting it fall to the floor with a breezy _whoosh. _His hands returned to her hips, grasping the flesh in his hands as he began to guide her down his stomach, letting her soaking wet center scrape down his body.

A shiver went through her as he encouraged her to rise up on her knees so that he could take the thick, hard width of his member in his hand and hold it perfectly upright, and the meaning behind his actions suddenly became very clear. He intended to have her, like this- on top of him.

Bridget felt her heart rate increase and suddenly a flutter of butterflies tingled in her stomach. She'd never been with a man like this before. She wasn't a fool, she knew it was done…but the way of it made her flush. Her body would be on display and it would be her moves that took control of the moment and brought them both pleasure.

He seemed to become impatient in her hesitation, using the strong hand on her hip to move her where he wanted. It was only a second later that she felt the blunt tip of him nudging through the wet slit of her flesh, seeking out the place it would slide in. A gasp of surprise was torn from her as he pulled her down and breached into her body inch, by inch. Bridget closed her eyes as her hips instinctively rose up a bit to coat the rigid staff in slick moisture to make taking him all the way in possible. She worked slowly on him for a moment before she let out a trembling sigh when she finally sat astride him, flush with his body and filled to the hilt. Her insides quivered at the strange sensation, from this angle he felt impossibly large and she could feel him everywhere inside her.

Her hands came up to rest on the flat muscle of his chest for leverage and she could tell by the way it rose and fell in huge, heaving breaths that he was still holding back for her benefit. Forrest's eyes were burning as they took in her body before squeezing shut, and his hands fell away from her hips to grip the bed sheets in huge handfuls. Bridget knew she was torturing him with her indecision and it was time to get down to it. Somehow through the lust, fear and passion she managed to remember a conversation with her sister Mary about this very same thing.

"_Well, it's no different than riding a horse really, and all it takes is a few good moves with your hips before you realize you ain't _ever_ gonna want to be on your back again."_

Bridget let a half smile pull at her mouth, knowing that somewhere she was laughing at her right now. Well, the impressive man below her was constantly compared to a stallion, about time that he was ridden like one. Her cheeks blushed at her own boldness- goddamn brandy.

She began in a tentative rhythm, letting her hips roll in a fluid motion, gasping as her sensitive flesh scraped against him and instantly sent tingles racing up her spine. This _was_ amazing. It wasn't long before her mind had closed down completely and instinct took over, letting her buck against him in more and more powerful movements. Bridget let her head fall back with a sigh as his hands let go of the sheets to touch her, one palming her backside in a tight grip while the other moved up to her breast, eagerly kneading it with rough fingers as he encouraged her to move faster and harder.

His hips rose suddenly and she squeaked in surprise as she bounced up a bit, before sliding back down again. Stars exploded behind her eyes and her heart hammered in her chest as he grabbed onto her and guided her up and down against him, finding a pace and intensity he preferred, hitting the place so deep inside that made her come apart. And he hit it over and over again. She could feel him growing harder- she knew it wouldn't be long, and while her own body was screaming for release there was something missing. The look of wanton frustration on her face must have been more visible than she thought.

"Tell me what you want," Forrest's voice rumbled out in a husky command.

Bridget's mind raced and her body wound up tighter than a spring but wouldn't release, "I…I…" Her throat bobbed in aggravation as she tried to form a thought above the surging pleasure in her body, "Touch me, Forrest, _please_."

His fingers trailed across her stomach seeking out the center of her need, threading through her folds to stroke against the little button. She couldn't contain the stream of high-pitched noises that poured from her throat as he touched her in synch with the thrusting bounce of their hips. A low, warm sensation began to unfurl itself in her stomach, and suddenly, with a force that took her breath away it all broke free and she was there. Release tore through her body and she arched her back as everything inside her clenched and released in rapid waves, a hoarse whisper of "yes" on her lips.

Forrest quickly sat up, his strong arms coming up to wrap around her and hold her tight to his chest as he surrendered to his own body's release. The deep, throaty growl of pure satisfaction that rumbled through his body into hers made every hair on her body stand on end and Bridget could feel him shake and groan as he spilled himself inside her.

He held her for a long moment afterwards, his hands absently tracing down her spine and threading through her curly hair while he breathed deep into the delicate skin of her throat as they both calmed down. He finally moved to lie back again, and took her with him, patiently waiting as she slid off of him and curled beside him. Bridget blushed in the darkness as he reached over to the floor and handed her his shirt to clean the wetness from her thighs. When she was done he pulled her to his chest again and pulled up the blanket to cover them.

She sighed contentedly as her fingers absently stoked his chest and her legs wound around his warm thigh. A tired smile played on her lips as she felt him kiss the top of her head, "You really shouldn't make a girl come all the way across the hall, Forrest, it's not proper to make a lady do all the work."

He chuckled lowly, "Well…uh…I know better than to…um… guess a lady's mind… got me slapped before."

Bridget laughed lightly as she looked up at him, leaning up to kiss his soft lips gently, "I didn't slap you because you kissed me, Forrest. I slapped you because I was damn furious with you. I actually quite like it when you kiss me."

Forrest nodded and held her closer, "You're… gonna be sleepin' in here now…with me"

"I will."

Bridget wasn't quite sure if he was asking her or telling her, and quite frankly it made her want to laugh out loud. He had no problem showing her how he felt when it came to beating a man to a pulp for hurting her or making love to her until she wanted to die of bliss…but words and asking her a simple question escaped him. Though, as she felt him begin to trail his hands all over her body again with a renewed hunger, she soundly realized that she didn't give a damn if he said nothing at all for the rest of their lives, as long as he was right at her side.


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: First update of the week! Woohoo!**

**Thank you so, so much to all who have reviewed! Seriously, you are all awesome, keep it up!**

**Here we go...**

* * *

There comes a time in every man's life when he no doubt realizes that he's come to the end of his bachelorhood and is hopelessly and utterly devoted to a woman. Forrest came to this same realization when he was standing in the bathroom mirror at a little before five in the morning with a straight razor in his hand while he was shaving his face. He had never _ever_ been concerned with something so trivial and vain before, but after washing himself and staring in the mirror, he noticed that his beard had gone from a little grown out to downright scruffy.

A nagging voice in his head reminded him that if he was going to be engaged in kissing a woman with soft, pale skin on a regular basis he ought to make sure he didn't feel too much like a piece of steel wool on her face. His ears reddened when he suddenly considered wanting to be smooth to kiss her _other_ places. Like clockwork he felt a stirring below his waist and sighed in defeat as he washed off his face, if his cock was going to keep waking up this early perhaps he needed to start staying in bed a little longer.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget smiled as she gently laid her silk nightdress across _their _bed. It was originally supposed to have been something fancy that she wore maybe once or twice, but she reasoned now that it would be a terrible waste of money if she didn't make use of it- and he certainly seemed to enjoy her in it.

She walked back across to the spare room and put on her bra, slip and a little touch of makeup. She pinned up her hair into a bun and sat on the edge of her bed to quickly repair the buttons on her pale blue dress. Her fingers made quick work of the needle and thread and she was so into her mending that she missed the moment that Forrest walked to the doorway. He cleared his throat and she looked up, her eyes widening when she noticed him.

He'd shaved his face. Good _Lord_, he was already one of the best looking men that she'd ever set eyes on, but clean shaven it was something else entirely. It somehow softened his face, making him look younger, and if it was even possible his beautiful lips appeared even fuller, like two downy soft pillows. She could feel her heartbeat race and she was quite sure the foolish blush that permanently colored her cheeks in his presence was back with a vengeance.

"I'll be down in a moment," She managed to speak in a whisper that was far too deep and husky for so early in the morning. "I just have to fix this dress."

Forrest nodded silently at her and she tried to ignore the almost painful clench in her lower body at the sight of him chewing on his bottom lip. He paused for a moment before stepping into the room and sweeping the dress off of her lap, instantly swallowing her surprised yelp as he took her mouth in a searing kiss.

Bridget completely ignored any semblance of propriety as she grabbed the back of his neck to deepen the kiss, bravely taking the lead as he guided her down to the mattress. She breathed deep as the musky citrus smell of his shaving cream filled her nose, adding just another layer to this man she just couldn't seem to get enough of. She sighed dreamily as she felt his mouth move down to her neck, nipping and trailing little licks and kisses down to her collar bone as he reached up to lower the straps of her slip.

"We have places to be this morning," She breathed in a gasp as his large hand came up to palm a breast through the flimsy cotton layer.

"Yeah," he grunted lowly, "at ten."

Suddenly a loud bang rang out through the station and they both froze and jumped up to look at the open doorway. A second later exaggerated stomping around could be heard throughout the first floor. It had to be Howard making his presence known.

Forrest frowned and grumbled angrily as Bridget managed to wiggle out from underneath him and pick up her discarded dress, her voice was still completely breathless and full of arousal. "Umm, we should go ahead and get downstairs for breakfast."

He grumbled more as he stood up and her face flushed when she watched him adjust the sizable bulge in his trousers, before looking at her again. "Damn fool didn't have a problem drinkin' himself stupid till noon three weeks ago, now he's up at the fuckin' crack o' dawn like a goddamn rooster."

She smiled in spite of his little tantrum, seeing firsthand where Jack got it from. "Forrest Bondurant," she admonished him gently, "I much prefer the fact that your brother is sober and feeling better, and I am sure that you do too."

A frown creased his face, "Yeah, damn happiest moment of my life."

Bridget bit her lip as she decided to turn the tables on him and stop his whining, she sauntered over and cupped him hard through the rough material of his pants before leaning in to his mouth. "Hush now, I'll still be right here tonight, waiting, don't you worry."

:o:o:o:o:o

Katie couldn't remember a time when she was more excited to be leaving a place. The nurses gave them back their clothes from the accident, freshly laundered in a wonderfully antiseptic smelling detergent that had taken out any stains. She helped Patrick get dressed, trying to mind his arm that was still wrapped in close to his body.

He stared at the empty sleeve of his shirt with a puzzled look on his face, "I look silly with one arm."

She smiled back at him planting a kiss on his cheek, "Well, I think you look adorable no matter how many arms you have."

He frowned and shrugged ignoring her the minute that the doors opened up and Forrest and Bridget walked it. The boy raced to her sister and waited for her to bend down before she hugged him close, then pulled back and stared up at Forrest, extending his little hand for a shake and waiting for the older man to lean over and offer his large hand gently.

"Hello Forrest," Patrick said clearly. "How is business this morning?"

Katie giggled as Forrest's eyebrows shot up under the brim of his hat and his amused grey eyes fell on her sister's smiling face before he answered with a cough and a low grunt, "Been fine, a little slow on account of the early hour."

He seemed to consider the answer for a moment before nodding, "That's good, doesn't get busy until eleven-thirty anyway."

Forrest let a small grin pull at his lip just as Jack bounded up behind Katie and threw his good arm around her waist. "Hey Miss Bridget, hey Forrest…you shaved?"

"Occasionally every man who can grow a beard does, Jack."

Katie tilted her head and noticed that he had indeed shaved- and he was _extremely_ handsome under the scruff. She further noticed that he seemed to be blushing…and her sister was bright red. This was interesting; something had been going on in the two days she'd been recuperating. Suddenly as the red flush receded from Bridget's face she noticed that there was still lingering redness at the neckline of her dress that looked like it dipped further down.

Her skin was chaffed and irritated, the same way it would have been from a rough wool coat…or stubble burn. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks and she knew that her mouth actually fell open. Between the red skin, and the smile her sister couldn't wipe off her face, and the…giggle…_holy cow_! They'd slept together. Bridget had actually had _sex_! Oh, _GOD_!

Katie tried to elbow Jack to get his attention and when he wouldn't stop talking about nothing she reached over and pinched his butt with her free hand. He jumped a mile and stared at her. "What the heck was that?"

"Just been tryin' to get your attention, honey," She sighed as she nodded to their older siblings with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

It went right over his head and she gave up.

"Crazy woman," He laughed. "Anyways, can I borrow the truck Forrest? I got errands to run all the way out in Summit this afternoon, actually was supposed to do it yesterday, should be back around ten tonight."

Forrest stared at him for a minute, "Ain't a good time, Howard and I have a drop off tonight with a couple out of towners 'round then. I need the truck."

He frowned and then a light went off in his eyes, "Miss Bridget, you mind if I take your car? It's kinda important."

Bridget shrugged, "I suppose that's fine, Jack; but the four of us can't fit in the truck to go back to the station."

"Oh, I'll go with him," Katie offered sweetly. "That way there is plenty of room in the truck and me and Jack can get some fresh air."

She was surprised that Bridget actually remained calm after the offer. Perhaps she should have gotten her under a man years ago.

"I'd prefer it if you came home and rested, Katherine."

"Bridget, I've been sleeping for _two days_, I can't get anymore rested if I tried. If I don't get some fresh air I am going to go loony. _Please_?!"

Bridget frowned and then waived her hands in the air in defeat, "Fine, if that's what you want. I am not your mother. Just please be careful, I don't want to pick you up at the hospital _again_." Her steady gaze pierced into Jack's eyes, "I don't need to tell you that you are responsible for her."

Jack paused for a minute and looked down at Katie, as if thinking about telling her to stay behind, but the determined look in her blue eyes put him off the argument. "Yes, Miss Bridget, I'll always keep her safe."

"Alright," She sighed leaning in to kiss her baby sister. "Be back tonight before eleven, I mean it."

"We will."

:o:o:o:o:o

There was nowhere that Jack seemed to be more relaxed than when he was behind the wheel of a car. Katie looked over as he deftly shifted the old model T into second gear and sighed. "Miss the V-8?" She needled with a smile.

He laughed out loud and tried to steer with his bruised left arm so he could hold her hand. "Yeah, a bit, but no big deal, I'll get it runnin' good as new after a little work. Otherwise I'll shit-can it and get a sensible family car."

"Eww," Katie stuck out her tongue, "way to make me feel like an old farmer's wife."

Jack brought her hand up to his lips so he could kiss it gently, "Sorry, baby doll. But you'll be the prettiest farmer's wife in Franklin County. So, you wanna be a June bride?"

"You best be talkin' _next_ June. I am not throwin' my wedding together in four weeks."

"Yes, ma'am, I meant next June."

"Then again, we might be havin' a wedding this June anyway."

His whole face screwed up with a questioning look, "What?"

"I can't even believe you missed that at the hospital. I swear Jack; did you _not_ see the look on my sister's face?"

"What look? She looked the same to me."

Katie rolled her eyes at his complete obliviousness, "Yeah, alright. Anyway, she looks like she's the cat that just ate the damn canary."

"Huh?"

"SEX, Jack, she had sex… and I'm pretty sure she had it with your brother…and judgin' by the glaze in her eye it was more than once and it was damn good."

Jack coughed loudly and his face went bright red, "How…um…how do you know 'bout that?"

Katie blushed at the question when she realized how it sounded. "Well… I don't know from experience…I…um…well...my sister Mary and her husband James were like rabbits, they were constantly at it." She nervously laughed, "You never forget that look, trust me."

"Wow, geez," he mumbled to himself, "Forrest has a woman, hot damn."

"Sure does."

:o:o:o:o:o

They arrived on the outskirts of the city a little after two in the afternoon. Katie swallowed hard as her stomach grumbled out of hunger and nerves. The prospect that she was actually here to see a real life gangster was starting to weigh on her mind. Part of her wished that she'd said something to Bridget.

"You wanna get a sandwich?" Jack asked quietly. "There's this little diner called Marco's that makes the best fried bologna and mustard sandwiches."

She nodded and they pulled down the mostly empty main street, stopping at a very small store front. Jack turned off the car and told her that he'd run in to get them lunch. Katie sat in the car and rolled down the window, resting her chin on her arms as she stared out. Suddenly a loud, throaty rumble echoed out through the air and she watched, amazed, as four brand new Ford sedans rumbled down the street, heading in the direction they just came from. That must have been Banner.

Jack came out of the diner a minute later with a paper bag and two bottles of Coca-cola, she watched as his eyes followed the cars before getting in and handing her the soda. "That was him," he confirmed as he reached into the bag and handed off a neatly wrapped sandwich, "don't rush eatin' though. He can wait a few."

She nodded as she took a big bite and wiped a bit of mustard off of her lip with a napkin. "Am I gonna be safe, Jack? I know the kinda things he's done, and I'm just a woman."

He smiled and reached over to cup her cheek, "Baby, it's gonna be just fine. Sure he's a tough son-of-a-bitch, but he knows my family and what we are in Frankin County, he ain't gonna risk a blood feud when he's makin' money hand over fist. And you ain't just a woman, you're _my_ woman, you're gonna be a Bondurant and we don't lie down for nobody. Got that?"

Katie couldn't help but lean in for a deep, long kiss at his thoughtful words. She never thought she could feel something like this. As a little girl she used to wonder how Mary could want to be with her husband every minute of every day…but now she knew. She'd happily follow Jack 'till she was old and grey.

"I love you, honey." She finally said with a big smile, returning to her sandwich with gusto. She _was_ starving after all.

:o:o:o:o:o

People you see on the newsreels or in the papers always seemed larger than life. But as Katie followed Jack into a nondescript building on the outskirts of town she was surprised to see that the clothes big city people wore were every bit as fancy and slick as they ever looked in pictures. Men leered at her with greasy slicked back hair, pencil mustaches wearing three piece suits and smoking cigars that cost more than everything she'd ever owned. She could hear them laughing and staring at her, the odd vulgar word hit her ears and she had to fight the urge to grab Jack's hand and lower her head. Instead, ironically, she thought about Bridget, and the way her sister walked with her head held high and proud no matter how much she wanted to cry. With a deep breath she squared up her shoulders and lifted her chin, if these men wanted to look- let them.

Jack finally pushed through a door to reveal a man seated at a simple wooden table with an armory of guns behind him the likes of which she'd never seen before. She watched as he smiled at Jack and sat back in his seat to light a cigarette in his thin lips. He looked to be about her father's age, with neatly coiffed brown hair, a small mustache and the coldest slate grey eyes she'd ever seen.

"Well, well Mr. Jack Bondurant, how have you been, son?" He said somewhat jovially.

Jack laughed with a sigh, "Damn favorite car is wrecked and spent two days in the hospital, so shitty as far as that's concerned, but alive-so that's good. Heard somethin' about someone messin' with the brake lines."

The older man shook his head and took a long drag on his cigarette, leaning forward on his elbow and exhaling, "I heard that too, got a few feelers out, but I ain't heard names yet. You'll know when I do. I don't take lightly to that sort of chicken shit. You wanna kill a man you let him see you walk up." He suddenly seemed to take notice of Katie standing over Jack's shoulder.

"Now, who might this be, Jack? My goodness I always liked your buddy Pate, but I have to say this is quite an improvement for the eyes."

Jack gently turned around and let her walk up next to him, "This is Miss Katherine Sullivan, she's gonna be my wife. Katie, this here is Mr. Floyd Banner."

Katie tried to still her shaking hands as she could think of nothing to do but hold one out to him with a small bow of her head, "Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Banner." Her voice was soft and doll like in the large, empty room.

Banner immediately stood and crossed the room to take hers and kiss the top of it with a charming smile, "Trust me, my dear, sweet girl, the pleasure is mine." He walked back to his chair and fixed Jack with a grin, "Congratulations, son. She's is the prettiest damn thing I think I've ever seen."

"I sure as hell know it." Jack answered proudly. "So, Gummy says you wanted to talk to me 'bout a couple things."

He nodded and looked pointedly at Katie, "We gonna dismiss the lady?"

"Nope," Jack answered shaking his head. "My business is her business. Anything you tell me she can hear."

Banner nodded quietly for a moment before taking a long drag off his cigarette, "Fine by me, son. Just so you know, there's already a cute little Texas couple doin' this sort of thing."

Jack shrugged and seeming to understand that the decision had been made, Banner continued. "I got buddies in the Senator's office in Chicago that says Roosevelt is gonna announce his platform soon for the Presidency, and it's gonna be repeal of Prohibition."

"No, shit. Legal booze again."

Banner sighed, "Yeah, and I don't need to tell you that's gonna hurt my pocket."

"So, whatcha askin' me?"

"I want three or four big loads before the election in November then I'll be lightin' outta here." He took another drag and put the butt out in the empty metal ashtray. "Hoover and his damn agents are sniffin' around more and more these days and getting' a little too smart, I ain't goin' to Alcatraz for not payin' my fuckin' taxes."

Katie couldn't help but chuckle and the gangster looked at her sharply. She bit her tongue and blushed, "I'm surely not laughin' at you, Mr. Banner I just think it's silly they locked up Al Capone for tax evasion when he has the blood of half the South Side on his hands. Guess it just shows money's all the Government cares about. Maybe if they thought about that before they stopped sellin' alcohol we wouldn't be in this depression."

He laughed out loud and slapped the table, "And that sweet little mouth is smart too, you best marry that one fast, before I start tellin' her she should be on my arm."

She smiled as Jack slid a possessive arm around her waist pulling her close. "You're around this fall Floyd you can come to the wedding." Fall? Katie looked over at him with a curious smile and Jack leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "Come on now baby, I told you we can't put a wedding together for June. I want you to have everythin' you want."

Katie smiled and managed to let only a small laugh puff from her lips at his ridiculousness.

Banner smiled, "Oh, I'll stop by, for no other reason than to steal a dance with the lady. Now, about the loads, I want fifty cases each, first one in a month."

Jack looked like he was doing math or something complicated in his head before answering, "Alright, if we're turnin' out that much product the price is gonna go up to seven dollars. More risk, more cost. Forrest is already gonna be pissed."

"Seven dollars a jar- you insane, son?"

"It's the best goddamn White Lightenin' in Virginia, or else you wouldn't be payin' me five dollars a jar for it; besides we both know you're gonna sell it for fifteen in Chicago." He pressed.

"It'll be twenty, now." Banner crossed his arms, "You drive a fuckin' hard bargain, kid, but I like you and you're honest so I'll give you the seven as long as it don't leave this room."

"Sounds good to me."

"See, now, how hard was that?" Banner groused, "If half the morons I have workin' for me were as smart as you, Bondurant, I wouldn't have to shoot so many of them. Take this one pretty boy from Chicago, fuckin' bastard is into me for ten large and keeps sayin' some drunk mick he used as a driver stole it from him a year ago."

"A driver stole ten grand?"

"Well, it was two…but I figure he owes me the extra for aggravation. I told him today if he don't pay me tomorrow by four I'm gonna cut him apart and feed him to the coyotes."

Katie frowned at the violent threat as well as the slur, and Banner seemed to put two and two together. "Ah, sorry about that honey, he said you were an Irish girl. What was the name again?"

"Sullivan."

Banner paused for a second and lit another cigarette, taking a long drag and staring right at her face. "You ain't from Roanoke are you?"

* * *

**Eeeep!**


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: In the middle of the worst week EVER…so I needed to get this out to you all…it's probably not perfect…but, well, that's life. : ).**

**Please, please read and review…honestly I really need it this week!**

**Also to the lovely and talented, Miss Winter…all for you darling ; ).**

* * *

"_You ain't from Roanoke are you?"_

Katie froze at his words and Jack shuffled her slightly backwards his arm holding her tighter. "How in the hell do you know?" He asked, his voice taking on a harder edge than she'd ever heard from him before. It reminded her of Forrest.

Banner sighed and shook his head. "I'm afraid that little fuck is lookin' for her and her sister. I'm guessin' your Daddy died last year in a car accident, am I right honey?"

Katie couldn't help the tears that started to pool in her eyes, "Yes. But I…I don't understand what that has to do with us? We don't have any money."

He shrugged his shoulders and exhaled a large cloud of smoke; his tone was seemingly indifferent to the situation. "He probably doesn't care much. Man's got a gun at his back and he's gonna do what he needs to do to get it. He owes me my money by tomorrow no matter what he does with his time tonight, be glad you got Jack here to protect you."

Katie's face reddened instantly and she snapped, stomping her foot and stepping around Jack so she could slam her hands down on the top of the desk in front of him. "And what about my sister goddamn it! 'Sorry' 'cause she's not here to meet you?" The volume of her yelling had several of the men in the hallway turning their heads. It didn't even register; instead she pointed her slender arm right in his face. "You better pray this man doesn't show up at Blackwater, or else."

Banner did not look amused. He sat back and folded his arms, fixing her with a cold stare, "I'm gonna let you get away with this on account of the situation. But I'd back up right now behind your boyfriend before I show you some manners and sit you on your ass, little lady."

Katie felt Jack's arm gently tug at hers and she obeyed, stepping away from Banner still shaking with anger. She couldn't believe her own mouth; she'd threatened "Mad Dog" Banner surrounded by his thugs and an armory of guns? What the hell was she thinking? The tears started to come when she looked up into his concerned hazel eyes and she could feel herself start to panic. "What are we gonna _do_ Jack? That man is out there and we're five hours from home!"

"It's alright, Katie-baby." He kissed her forehead and mumbled softly, "He don't know you're in Franklin County up at Blackwater, how could he? We'll just get back home and tell Forrest, you'll see, he'll take care of this right quick. You know nothin' will happen to Bridget with him lookin' out for her."

"Your brother Forrest knows her sister?" Banner interrupted with a smirk.

Jack nodded as he held Katie close, "Yeah, Bridget's his woman, or at least I think he means her to be."

The gangster shook his head and laughed, "You know I think you're right honey, that man better pray he don't show up in Franklin. I've heard what his brother is capable of in a bad mood with a straight razor and a little time, and come tomorrow afternoon his pansy ass is mine- so I wouldn't worry about it."

Jack looked over at Banner, "He say where he was goin' when you saw him last?"

"Cried like a damn girl, I tend not to listen to men like that beggin' for mercy."

"Alright then, well, we'll be goin' now," Jack spoke in his direction as he rubbed Katie's back in reassuring circles.

"Sorry to have to leave on this note," Banner raised his shoulders with a sigh. "But we'll be seeing each other soon enough."

Jack nodded. "Sure will, one month, seven dollars a jar."

"See you then, son, and please bring your lovely bride again."

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget yawned as she settled behind the counter and set to making another bit of iced tea. The lunch rush was fizzling out, but it was a little after two in the afternoon and there would no doubt be another crowd coming back in around four.

There was only one table full of four regulars, including Walter Nash, and then Forrest, Patrick and Howard who occupied their usual seats. She was genuinely surprised to see Howard hang around after lunch, but he said everything at the barn was taken care of and that he was looking to talk to Forrest about something.

She laughed to herself when she noticed somewhere along the line he started playing a game of seven-card stud poker with Patrick using his precious rocks as betting chips, and judging by the pile in front of the little blonde boy, things were going in his favor. She grabbed the percolator of hot coffee and walked over to see if anyone needed anything.

"You're cheatin'," Howard exaggeratedly groused at Patrick. "I'm gonna hold you upside down and start shakin' out cards you got hid up that empty sleeve, boy."

"I am _not_ cheating!" He insisted emphatically pointing his little finger at him, "You are losing _fair_ and _square_! Ask Forrest, he sees me holding my cards."

Forrest looked up from his work and shook his head, "Don't need your word, I know my brother's terrible at the game. Why he looks like he does and ain't rich after playin' for damn near thirty years. You just keep playin' like you are and don't listen to him."

Bridget couldn't help but smile as she came up behind Forrest to refill his cup, letting her free hand gently rest on his shoulder as she leaned over. "Would you like more coffee, Howard?" She asked.

"I'm fine, thanks."

She nodded and allowed herself another moment to linger, rubbing her thumb in a circle on his soft cotton vest before turning and walking off for the other table.

Walter Nash looked up from his empty cup a smile curling his wrinkled face, "Well good afternoon my lovely Irish lass, how's this day treatin' ya?"

"Can't complain, good Sir," Bridget answered as she poured his cup, "how about you?"

"Better, now that I got your good food in my belly." He leaned back in his seat and rubbed his worn overalls to emphasize. "It's a damn lucky man that lands you as his wife."

"Well, when you find this lucky man, let me know," She answered slyly. "I'm surely not gettin' any younger."

Walter let his laughing eyes roll across the room to look at Forrest's back. "Alright, I'll make sure and keep my eyes open, never know when one might be sittin' across the room from ya."

Bridget bit her lip and shook her head ruefully; the sad truth was growing more and more real with every minute of every day- if that man across the room did decide to marry her she'd say "yes" before he even had time to get the question out. She didn't need a wedding, hell at her age the thought of parading down an aisle in a white dress in front of a crowd like a pure virginal bride was enough to make her laugh out loud. She'd be perfectly fine with a Justice of the Peace walking up to them both, asking the question and recording the answer. She didn't even need a ring. It would be nice...but she didn't need one.

Her mind was so utterly lost in her foolish day dream, that she completely missed the man who stood up from the table and walked behind her. She turned to leave and ran right into him, sending a cascade of scalding hot coffee out of the percolator in her hand right down the front of her dress.

"Oh, _shoot_!" She yelled as she grimaced in pain, trying to hold her soaking wet dress out away from her body.

The scruffy man that she ran into tried to profusely apologize through slurred words. She waived him off and told him not to worry it was her fault, as she ran to the counter to drop off the pot before running up the stairs, yelling over her shoulder to Forrest and Howard, "I'll be right back down!"

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget waited until she was out of sight and stripped out of her stained dress, tossing it on the floor in the spare room as she pushed into the bathroom to soak a towel with cold water. She hobbled back to the bed and sat down, lifting up her wet slip to look at the damage. She wasn't burned too badly, but there was a patch of hot, pink skin on her inner thigh the size of a fist that hurt like a bitch. She hissed as she laid the cool cloth on it and frowned when she saw the blue pool of fabric on the floor. First the buttons and now the coffee, that poor old dress was just destined to be destroyed.

She heard the heavy fall of approaching footprints on the stairs and went to get up to close the door for privacy when suddenly Forrest's large frame appeared in the open space. "You alright?" He grunted lowly as he stared at her with a concerned look.

"Oh, fine," She answered breathlessly, unable to stop blushing when she realized that she was sitting on the bed in nothing but her slip hiked up to the top of her thighs. "I'm just fine."

He walked into the room and knelt down at her feet, his sharp grey eyes focusing on the wet towel. He reached out slowly and pulled it up to examine the bit of damaged skin. Bridget winced as his rough fingers gently touched her along her thigh. "Should be alright, burn's not that deep." He mumbled his voice suddenly heavier, and in that low, husking tone that seemed to bypass her brain and fall hotly right between her legs.

Forrest's eyes flickered up to meet hers and she was so caught up in the roaring blood that surged in her ears she missed him lifting up his other hand to rest high on her other leg. Bridget bit her lip shyly as his thumb absently traced a circle on the smooth, sensitive skin, only inches from the crux of her thighs. The entire lower half of her body was slowly coming to life with the same tingling cramps of all consuming arousal and liquid lust that she'd come to associate with being anywhere near this man.

But her blue eyes flew open in panic and alarm when suddenly he sunk further to the ground and leaned in his head, letting those beautiful, pillow soft lips touch the skin of her injured leg just above the burn. She gasped at the wonderful feeling of his kiss and pulled away, "Forrest, what in the hell are you doing?"

Forrest didn't reply to her, instead he simply leaned in and kissed the other leg, this time letting his lips part just enough to let his tongue barely come out to ghost against the impossibly soft flesh. "Hush, woman, this ain't the time to talk, just lie back."

Bridget tried to close her legs and was hampered instantly by his wide shoulders. She tried to scurry away as his large, warm palms slid up her legs to grab the elastic hem of her underwear. "I don't know what you mean to do," she launched into a breathy tirade as his hands tugged the simple cotton fabric over her backside and down her legs with alarming ease, "but I _know_ it's not what it looks like."

He backed off just enough to slide the offending garment off her ankles and let it fall to the floor before resuming his place kneeling between her legs and placing another open mouthed kiss on her inner thigh, this one alarmingly close to her now exposed and shamefully damp core.

"What are you _doing_!?" She hissed loudly as she tried to move away from him, her cheeks flamed bright red with blush. "Stop that, right now!" He ignored her completely in favor of leaning in again, his lustful grey eyes focused only on the sight of her femininity. Bridget panicked and finally put her hand in the way to cover herself up. "Are you listening to me?"

The irritated and clenched jaw she received as a reply made her nervous. "Do I look like I wanna listen to you right now?" He growled impatiently. "I think it's pretty plain what I mean to do, Bridget."

Her eyes widened in shock as she stared down at him, "Well…I…I…what…you can't do _that_ to me! It isn't proper behavior! Forrest- it's a sin, not to mention _completely_ unnatural."

A somewhat sly smile curled his delicious mouth, "Well, seein' as I have the necessary parts and the desire to, I am very sure I _can_ do that to you. As for it bein' a sin, I am pretty sure I remember readin' in the good book as a boy that a man shouldn't lie with anyone but his wife and only to make children. And I'm pretty sure a woman should never swing her legs across a man's waist, climb up and ride him good and hard like a horse, so we've already sinned." His eyebrow raised and a somewhat playful tone threaded through his voice, making his scandalous words seem that much more indecent, "Now, as for it bein' unnatural, I've been on a farm most my life with all sorts of animals, ain't nothin' 'bout what I am gonna do that's unnatural."

Her entire body was awash in mortification and pure, overwhelming, wanton lust. Was she going to let him do this to her? Had he done this before? What sort of women let a man do this to them?

"Ha…" Bridget's throat was suddenly parched as dry as the desert and every word was a struggle to get out, "Have you done this before?" She cursed the naïve and childlike way she asked the question.

Forrest paused for a minute and chewed his lip thoughtfully, "No...uhh... I haven't ever wanted to... before now."

"What made you want to?" She asked with a strange feeling of relief, but an equally interested feeling crept into her mind.

He grumbled to himself and she swore that his cheeks and the tips of his ears had flushed bright red. His hands came up to grasp her backside in his palms as he adjusted his position on the floor, pulling her to the edge of the bed. "Don't serve a man sweet peaches and brandy before bed, makes him think all sorts of things he can't get out of his goddamn mind the next day."

"Oh," She breathed, her breath catching as he moved his head between her legs to kiss along her thighs, first slow and tentative, but growing more and more bold and hungry as he moved inwards. "What do you need me to do?" She squeaked, unsure of just what, if anything, she was supposed to do in a situation like this.

"Just lie back and hush that damn mouth for a change, woman." The rumbling command ghosted across her skin and she did as she was told, shaking slightly as she let herself lay down onto the mattress.

Bridget closed her eyes and covered her mouth with her hand as he continued to touch her. It was almost too much to bear, wetness flooded her entire lower body as it began to clench and wind up tighter that it ever had been. The fact that she couldn't see him added a sense of mystery as his hot mouth moved from one leg to another; but she just couldn't bring herself to look. The thought of seeing his head between her legs was unbearably lascivious…how would she ever look at him again?

Her thoughts were racing and her heart was hammering- it all stopped the instant that she felt the slick warmth of his tongue as it tentatively touched her most private flesh. Oh, dear, sweet _Lord_, this couldn't be happening… and it couldn't possibly feel this incredible. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek as the wanton moans threatened to spill out of her mouth. But when he suddenly trailed the tip of his tongue against the tiny, hard button at the apex of her sex, Bridget's eyes rolled back in her head.

A rush of wetness flooded out and she couldn't hold back the whimpers of absolute ecstasy that assailed her body. There was no way she was ever going to be able to survive this until climax, she would surely die before it happened.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget tasted sweeter and more addicting than anything he'd ever had in his life, and he knew from this moment on that there wouldn't be any goddamn sugary dessert he'd ever crave more than this. He couldn't hold in the growls and groans that slipped from his mouth as he consumed her, eagerly devouring the hot flesh with his lips.

When he finally managed to concentrate on what he was doing, he let his tongue slither up the natural path her body provided to find that hidden little part of her that seemed to unravel her at the seams every time. The little whining noises that instantly squeaked out of her lips at the slightest touch seemed to reach through her body, into his, and grab him by the cock tighter than a fist.

Forrest couldn't stop the way he rose up on his knees at the surge of feeling. He was so hard it hurt. Though, frankly he had been all morning thanks to the way he was rudely interrupted by Howard before he'd been able to have his way with her. And seeing her like this, up close, with her delicate, damp, pink folds darkened and plumped with blush the same way her mouth could look after his attention made him insane with want.

If he didn't take her here and now, he'd lose his mind.

He refocused his efforts and suckled harder on the hardening little nub, growling in covetous arousal when he saw her arch her back and come apart, muffling a high pitched wail of satisfaction by biting on her fist. More of that sweet, sweet nectar pooled out of her body and he drank it up, making sure not to miss a drop.

Bridget was trembling and panting, her eyes squeezed shut and he could see the shining tears that coursed down her cheeks and the flush on her skin from the intensity of her emotion. She was so vulnerable and she was so damn beautiful, seeing her like this everyday for the rest of his life would still never be enough.

His body was _screaming _and he was barely able to concentrate enough to unzip the front of his pants, tear out his shirt and take hold of the aching span of flesh in his hand.

There wasn't even time or a thought to get all the way on the bed. Forrest merely fell forward, leaning his knees on the side of the mattress and lining himself up with a brutally efficient aim. He breached her in a hard thrust and he honestly wanted to make sure that she was alright, but his head had absolutely no control over his cock. Instead he threw her long, graceful legs up and over his arms, so he could spread her wide open and let the animal raging inside him take over.

His hips were brutally snapping into her and he could see the way she was straining to keep from screaming out at the onslaught. Part of him wanted to tear away her hand and make her moan out loud so the entire station could hear what he was doing. That she was _his_ and that he was the only one who could touch her like this.

She was hot, wet and gripped him so tightly he couldn't last. Forrest wanted to try to bring her again, but he just _couldn't_. His entire body was shaking with a painful need to finish. In the end all he could do was grunt out for her to look at him as he completely lost it and filled her velvet insides with everything he had.

He was still trembling when he came down, letting himself slip out of her body and fall back down to his knees on the hardwood floor. Bridget sat up slowly and leaned down to meet him, her lips finding his panting ones with a gentle kiss. He could still taste her in his mouth and somehow when her tongue snaked in between his lips he actually managed to feel a slight twitching below his waist at the thought of her tasting her own flavor on his mouth.

"We should get back downstairs before I lose my desire to," She breathed out with a gentle smile. "We have customers waiting."

Forrest kissed her quickly and grumbled his irritation, "Don't really care. If Howard can't manage for ten minutes he's got problems."

She laughed quietly and kissed him again sweetly, "Come on now, I have to get dinner started." He acquiesced instantly to her command and let her off the bed so she could head to her trunk and fish out that short little blue dress that hugged her chest a bit too tightly for his liking. The way his blood was still humming it would take one look from one of the drunken idiots downstairs to have him rearranging their faces with his fist.

Bridget fixed her mussed curls in the mirror and after a few swipes with her fingers managed to get her red cheeks under control. She turned to the door and stopped, staring down at her discarded cotton panties beside him with a devious gleam in her eyes, "Let me know later if there is anythin' especially sweet you want for dessert tonight."

He couldn't stop his eyes from opening wide at her words, and the tone of her voice, dripping with blatant innuendo like a woman who was comfortable with that sort of thing, actually began to bring him back to life. "Uhhh…ummm…alright, then, I'll …uhh…be right down."

She turned with a smile and walked down the stairs, leaving him with the realization that he still had a mouthful of her and he'd be staring at her backside in that dress all night, knowing there was nothing at all underneath her slip.

And he still had to make a run out with Howard for a delivery before he could turn in for the night and take her to bed… _goddamn it! _


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: New week, new update! Happy Monday, please read and review!**

**Please!? : )**

* * *

Bridget smoothed down Mary's old dress and tried to be calm and collected when she walked downstairs. She really had no idea at all what had possessed her to leave her underpants on the floor beside Forrest and forgo them altogether. It was completely scandalous and improper, though after what she'd just allowed him to do to her it really didn't seem all that shocking.

Never in her life had she ever thought that men and women did something like that together and stranger yet, that she would _ever_ be the sort of woman who enjoyed it. Quite frankly…and shamefully, she already wanted to do it again.

The table of regulars paid her no mind at all as she crossed the floor, but the look on Howard's smirking face said it all.

"Little afternoon break?" He asked slyly adjusting his cards, "Always the best kind if you ask me."

She shook her head and laughed, "I have no idea what you are talking about, Howard."

He pointed up to the ceiling with an absent gesture, "Spare room is just right up there, sounded a little like furniture was bein' moved all around a minute ago, 'course I could be hearin' things in my older age."

Bridget knew she was blushing something awful; thankfully Forrest appeared behind her a minute later with a frown on his face, "What's that you heard, now?"

Howard waggled his eyebrows in response and shook his head with a wide grin, "Nothin' at all, little brother, nothin' at all."

Forrest pulled out his usual chair and sat down, opening up his books and resuming his work. "You gonna need a girdle soon, Howard? 'Cause you really are startin' to act like a damn nosy old woman. If you ain't gonna fall down drunk anymore you should really find somethin' to do with your time before I have to slap some fuckin' sense into you."

Bridget tapped him gently on the shoulder and scolded him at his vulgar reply, "Language, in front of the little one, Forrest."

He stared up at her, as if surprised with the contact and the comment. His sharp grey eyes took her in and he nodded slowly, drawing his full, lower lip into his mouth; the action alone had her blushing. "Yeah," He grunted, "I'll be careful what I do with my mouth, Ma'am."

Bridget's eyes were as wide as saucers at his cheeky reply, and she could only nod wordlessly as she turned and ran off to the bar to make some coffee...or... something, just as long as she was far away from him and those deliciously sinful lips.

:o:o:o:o:o

Dinner was quiet without Katie and Jack's constant chatter. Bridget had simply made some hamburger steak, brown gravy and boiled potatoes with lots of fresh butter; it was Patrick's favorite meal, and as the poor boy was left eating with one hand she wanted him to have at least a little something special.

She made sure to help cut up his food in manageable pieces and completely ignore his protests that he was a big enough boy to take care of himself. There was a horrible moment of realization that dawned on her as she looked at the obstinate look in the little boy's blue eyes. He'd never been a stubborn child, but one sidelong glance to the men she shared her table with was enough to know that the Bondurants had rubbed off a little on him.

Though try as she might to be irritated at that, she found herself smiling with the thought that there were far more wonderful things he'd learn from the character of these men to make up for the fact that she'd have another stubborn ass to deal with when he grew.

It made her feel a sense of fulfillment, that even though her brother-in-law wasn't here to help his son become a man, he had three wonderful examples to help him.

"So, about work," Howard suddenly spoke up out of nowhere, is pale green eyes looking over at Forrest. "I heard they're gonna be lookin' for machinists down in Martinsville at the textile mills come winter."

Forrest took a sip of coffee and nodded at his brother, "You wanna go?"

Howard shrugged, staring down at his plate, "I, uh, I dunno. I know you need help with the still and the farm and all, but I used to do that in the Army, and I figured it would keep me busy."

Forrest seemed to think it over for a minute and looked over at Bridget, "Well, we don't need to be runnin' 'shine in the winter, and it's about time Jack's ass started tending the farm. You wanna go to Martinsville and make a living I ain't gonna stop you, Howard. Maybe you can find a damn wife down there that don't know any better and you can keep your ear away from our door."

"Fuck you, Forrest." He chuckled lowly at his brother's thinly veiled insult, "You best believe if I find a woman I am not gonna sit around moonin' and grousin' about it for weeks, little brother."

"Yeah," He grunted, "Can't wait to meet this poor deaf woman who falls for your lines."

Bridget smiled and her stomach fluttered pleasantly, he'd said "our" room and meant the two of them as a couple. She let herself relax for the first time in so long, she was home and her family was safe...and she was in love.

:o:o:o:o:o

"What's that noise?!" Katie yelled out as the car suddenly started to make a loud hissing sound, followed by a white billowing cloud of smoke from the hood.

"It's the goddamn radiator!" Jack grumbled angrily as he pulled the car over on the side of the empty county road. "It's gotta have a leak in it somewhere!"

Katie felt her heart sink into her stomach, it was already starting to get dark and now they were stuck. She just wanted to get home to her sister and Forrest to tell them what they'd learned about that awful man.

Jack jumped out and pulled up the side of the car and tried to poke his head around inside the hood. "There's a hole in the radiator I can see it." He mumbled. "I don't know how in the hell we are gonna fix this and get home."

She chewed her lip anxiously and tried to stay calm. Letting hysterics take over at a time like this was not going to solve anything. She hopped out of the car and looked over Jack's shoulder to see that there was indeed a small hole in the metal mesh that a trickle of water was steadily leaking out of. Cars needed water to run and cool the engine. She knew this as gospel fact. James had calmly explained to her on several occasions that coolant and oil were like a car's life blood, and without them you weren't going very far at all.

With a sigh she stood up and stared down the dirt road, first one way, then the other- there was nothing at all around.

A cool wind picked up and sent a strand of blonde hair that had fallen from her braid swirling around her head. It was as if a divine hand was trying to get her attention, pulling her eyes to the left side of the road; there it was, a small handwritten sign asking just a couple of pennies for a dozen farm fresh eggs a half mile down the road. The idea slammed into her like a hammer to her mind…cooked eggs in the radiator would plug the hole enough for them to make it home.

"Eggs!" She suddenly yelled, slapping Jack hard in the shoulder.

"Ow!" He groused as he wheeled around to look at her with a puzzled look, "What in the hell are you talking about, woman?"

"If we can crack eggs and get them in the radiator the heat will cook them up and that should plug up the hole. I remember my brother-in-law doing it once when he was desperate." She explained frantically waving her hands.

Jack seemed to mull it over for a few seconds before sweeping her into his arms and spinning her around, peppering her face with sweet little kisses. "Damn it, you are a genius!" Katie smiled at his enthusiasm and grabbed his hand tightly as they took off down the road towards the farm as fast as they could.

:o:o:o:o:o

Forrest was blatantly staring at her across the room like some sort of simpleton. In fact, he was fairly concerned that at some point or another his jaw had gone slack and a bit of drool was starting to leak out at the corner. So this is what it actually felt like to be in love with someone. Well, either that or putting his mouth between her legs and tasting her had actually driven him insane. At the moment it could have very well been either one, or both, that was equally the case. He watched her as she reached up to stack the clean dinner plates into a cabinet, sucking a sharp breath into his nose as the hem of her dress inched up the perfectly milky white skin of her thigh. The way she was slightly bent over at the waist made him want to storm over there and lean her all the way onto the counter and lift up the back of her skirt and slide home.

Yeah, it was both alright; he'd gone completely mad. Christ. He felt himself immediately stir again and had to shift in his seat as he hardened. Ironically it was subsequently deflated seconds later when Sheriff Potts and Deputy Branson walked into the door.

Forrest took one look at Howard and then nodded at the two awkward law men.

"Evenin' Forrest," The Sheriff mumbled. "Sorry to come all the way out here to the station, but I got somethin' I wanted to talk to you about."

He sat back in his chair and placed a toothpick between his lips, "Yeah, what would that be?"

"It's about Jack's accident."

That was enough to get everyone's attention. Forrest's jaw clenched down hard on the small piece of wood in his mouth, and his grey eyes were hard, "What about that, now."

"Turns out brake lines were definitely cut," He nodded, pulling off his hat and letting his voice quiet down. "That ain't all. There's also been someone 'round town past couple of days askin' folks about the women you got livin' here, I think they might have somethin' to do with one another."

Forrest looked at him and noticed that Bridget was now paying very close attention to the conversation, he didn't want to make her nervous and he hadn't said anything to her about the accident. "What's he look like?"

The Deputy shrugged, "Got money, from Chicago or New York, I'm guessin'."

It all clicked; suddenly Forrest stood up from his chair- the coupe that had been at the station. Once for gas and once before that, when she'd run upstairs away from him and he'd found her crying in her room. His hands balled into fists as he walked across the room, past the two law men and behind the bar, stopping only when he'd effectively backed her against the counter. Any notion about remaining calm for her went out the damn window. Bridget looked at him with wide blue eyes and he noticed that her hands were shaking. She knew. She'd hidden something from him and it had almost cost him his baby brother's life.

"I asked you a damn question that afternoon and you lied to me." His voice was a low, raspy growl, and he knew he was frightening her.

"Forrest…I…" She tried to breathe and he wouldn't let her. He couldn't let her look at him with those big, beautiful tear filled eyes, he hadn't gotten his answer.

A clearing throat had him whirling around to stare at the Sheriff, the Deputy and his older brother. "You two, get out, we're done here. Howard, close up, right now."

The men paused for a moment, but the hard look on Forrest's face stopped any sort of argument immediately.

He turned back to Bridget and grabbed her elbow, pulling her towards his office as he tried to control himself. It was proving to be impossible. The mixture of fear, anger and betrayal mixed with the all consuming love and lust he felt for the woman beside him to create a volatile cocktail. He pushed into the room and slammed the door behind them, whirling around to meet her now frantic face. "You had better talk to me, woman."

"I'm sorry, Forrest," Bridget gasped as a tear fell down her cheek. "I didn't know what to do. He showed up demanding I give him money, he said my father stole from him. I didn't know what to say to you."

His grey eyes narrowed angrily and he took her chin in his hand, tilting it up sharply, "How much?"

"Two thousand dollars," She whispered as her eyes closed, a flush of shame coloring her cheeks.

His eyes darted back and forth and he licked his mouth in irritation, he swore that he could still taste her there, sweet and high on his lip, and it was the final insult that snapped him back to reality. "That why you came to my bed?"

There was a flash of every emotion on her stunned face, disbelief, hurt and finally fury. She stepped into him and pushed her body right into his, the soft weight of her breasts pressing against the hard wall of his chest. Her nostrils were slightly flared with her hard breaths and she was absolutely enraged when she spoke through her clenched teeth. "How dare you say that to me? Is _that_ what you think of me?"

Forrest couldn't stop himself from pressing back into her, pushing her hard against the wall. "What am I supposed to think, Bridget?" He growled angrily, "You act like a goddamn frigid ice princess from the minute I let you sleep under my fuckin' roof, and the next minute I got you straddlin' my waist ridin' me good. That why? Were you just waitin' to ask me if I'd _pay_?"

Her mouth fell open in shock and the next thing he knew her hand flew back and she cracked it against his cheek hard. The impact stung like a bastard and he clenched his jaw, not backing down. Instead it only seemed to inflame his body more, it suddenly came to life with a vengeance and he shamelessly pressed himself hard against her body. His hand came up to tangle in her hair as he dragged her face to meet his, taking her lips in a harsh, desperate kiss. Forrest couldn't think straight, he was literally controlled completely by his rage and his cock. He couldn't tell if he wanted to hit her or fuck her until she couldn't move, until he made her love him the way he loved her. Right now either one of them seemed like a fair trade for the crushing betrayal he felt surging in his gut.

Bridget suddenly bit down hard on his lip and wedged her hands against his chest, pushing against him with everything she had. It surprised him enough that he stumbled back against his desk. She was shaking and crying as she looked up at him with disgust on her face, "Get away from me."

Her hand came up to touch her lips, reddened from the force of his assault, and his heart suddenly wrenched in his chest when he realized just what he'd been moments away from doing. He turned around without another word and stormed out of his office and out the front door of the station, needing at that moment to be anywhere but near her.

:o:o:o:o:o

Her hand stung from where she'd slapped him across the face, but it was nothing compared to the agony inside her body. She fell to the floor with a wailing sob and held her face in her hands as she cried like a helpless child. Forrest had hurt her, and though her arm and her mouth ached from where he'd been rough with her, it was the look in his eyes that hurt the most. He was betrayed, and it was her fault. She'd kept the truth from him and it had almost cost them both something that was the most precious thing in the world.

That evil man had tried to kill Katie, Jack and Patrick because she had been too goddamn stubborn to trust Forrest, a man she was so desperately in love with she couldn't think straight. And now he wanted nothing to do with her.

Bridget tried to compose herself as she stood up and walked out of the office. The entire place was empty with the exception of Patrick who was sitting alone at the table with a sad look on his face. He looked over at her and started to cry, "Are we gonna have to leave here?"

She didn't know what to say to him she tried to speak without sobbing, "I don't know, baby."

An angry frown creased his soft angelic features and he jumped off of his seat, pointing at her furiously. "Why would you be mean to Forrest? I wanted to have a Mommy and a Daddy again and you _ruined_ it! I hate you!"

Bridget was taken aback as he ran upstairs away from her, listening as he slammed the bedroom door.

She walked to behind the bar in an absolute daze, reaching into the cupboard and pulling out a mason jar full of whiskey. She laughed at the irony that she was drinking her pain away just as her father did so many times before. Maybe she deserved everything that had happened. The clear liquid burned like fire as she took a healthy mouthful, coughing as it slid down to her gut. It only took a few swigs for her head to swim and her thoughts to begin to fade away. Bridget finally put the jar down and moved to the main door of the station to make sure it was locked up.

Forrest and Howard were most likely down by the storage shed, out packing for their delivery tonight. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was a little before nine thirty. She absently wondered where she would be sleeping tonight.

Bridget opened up the door and stared out at into the quiet night, before sighing and closing it. Her head hung down for a moment and she missed the toe of the shiny, black leather shoe that wedged into the door. In a split second the wooden door suddenly flung open and cracked hard into her face. Bridget gasped in pain as she stumbled back and fell to the ground, her ears ringing in agony as her eyes went fuzzy for a minute and then focused on the shadow in the door that sauntered into the station. She went stock still and a panicked scream came out when she realized who she was staring at.

It was the same man that had threatened her before, but this time instead of the impeccable suit he was completely disheveled. His clothes were rumpled and his hair was stringy, she could smell the sweat and alcohol that reeked from his body. His beady black eyes were bloodshot and gleamed with absolute madness as he sneered with a choking laugh. "I told you I was gonna come see you again, did you forget?"

She scrambled back to her feet and with a panicked gasp, "Please, I don't have any money!"

"That's too bad," He hissed as he reached into his coat pocket. "Too fuckin' bad for you, honey. But if you ain't gonna pay money, I got plenty other things I can take from you."

It happened so fast she didn't realize what was happening; there was only a glint of metal and a loud 'pop.' Bridget groaned and stumbled backwards to the bar as her hand came up to touch her lower stomach, it was wet and it took her a second to register the dark color that covered her hand…and what he'd done to her.


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: Alright…so sorry about yesterday…only to tell you that I will apologize in advance about today!**

**There's a lot of unpleasantness in here, language, situations that I was less than happy having to put my head in…but before the end we need to journey through the darkness…**

**Please, please read and review. It means a lot…and it is an inspiration…**

**Also may be a few errors...I just want to get this out to all of you...**

* * *

It didn't hurt the way she thought being shot would.

Bridget doubled over with a groan as a dull cramp began to roil through the lower half of her body. She tried to get to the shotgun behind the bar, or to the back door, but her legs wouldn't cooperate. They were sluggish and heavy, and she couldn't stop the tears that began to fall down her cheeks at the thought that she was going to die here, on the floor of Blackwater Station all alone.

She'd never see Katie or Patrick again, she'd never tell Forrest that she was sorry, or how she truly felt about him…things that would only have taken a moment that she'd let pass her by because of her foolish pride.

The man was laughing as he walked up to her and grabbed her by the hair, tilting her head back harshly. "Oh, that bullet won't kill you right away, honey. Nice gut shot like that will take a long time for you to bleed out." He dragged her over to one of the tables and tossed her on her stomach on top of it. A purely evil grin split his face as he unfastened his black leather belt and wrapped it tightly around her wrists before securing her to a wooden post, leaving her bent over and completely helpless.

He brought his mouth to her ear and Bridget nearly gagged at the disgusting smell of his breath. "And before you go cold, you and I are gonna have a little fun. You don't have money; that's fine I'll take my payment out of your sweet little pussy."

She sobbed openly in fear and pain, as she felt his hands come up to tear at the back of her dress splitting it down the middle to expose her completely to the cold night air. In her agony there was only one person she screamed out for, praying that somehow he could hear her and that he would save her again.

"FORREST! HELP ME!"

:o:o:o:o:o

The strange popping noise woke him out of his fitful sleep. Patrick sat up and got out of the bed, walking to the door with silent steps. He opened it and stuck out his head, freezing when he heard a man's voice he didn't recognize and then his Aunt screaming out for help- and for Forrest. His heart began to pound in his chest and his knees shook. He didn't know what to do. But he knew that he had to be a man and do something or he was going to lose her forever. That man was going to hurt her, and he couldn't let _anything_ bad happen to her.

He tip toed over to the window and looked out to the overhang. It was a long way down to the ground, but if he was careful he should be able to do it.

Patrick bit his cheek hard as he pulled his arm out of the tight sling and put it back through his shirt. It didn't hurt as bad as he thought and he quickly ran over to the window, pushing it open and crawling out onto the rickety roof of the porch. It looked a whole lot higher from up here. But he had to be brave, he had to.

He carefully walked to the end and sat down on his bottom, rolling onto his stomach and trying to hold on as best he could to the rough, clapboard shingles as he pushed back off and dangled by his arms. He cried out as pain suddenly burst out from his broken collar bone and the next thing he knew he was falling down, landing on first his feet then his backside with a hard crash in the grass.

A raging shot of pain shot up his back and he found himself crying without even thinking. His legs were shaking and he didn't make it more than a few wobbly steps before he doubled over on the ground and threw up. It was embarrassing and he hated the fact that he was covered in vomit, but it didn't matter. He had to get to Forrest and Howard.

Patrick set his sights on the dark outline of the small shed across the way and put one little foot in front of the other, his heart and his head making him continue to move.

:o:o:o:o:o

Forrest chewed on his cigar with clenched teeth so hard he thought he was going to cut the end of it more effectively than with a blade. He was hefting the crates of whiskey with far more force than was necessary or prudent on account of the fact that the jars were made of glass. But he couldn't calm himself down. Now removed from the situation the fury and anger that was clenching his guts had very little to do with Bridget not telling him about that man and more to do with the fact that he'd acted like a goddamn animal. He'd put his hands on her, and for fuckssakes for a moment he'd actually thought about taking her whether she wanted it or not.

He was no better than her father, who after her confession the first night she'd kissed him, when he was looking at her injured wrist, he suspected that the man not only put his fists on her but beat her and caused those scars as well.

"Those are made of glass." Howard grumbled angrily as he watched him slam down another crate. "Don't feel like hearin' you piss and moan later about losin' money on account of you behavin' like a damn kid."

Forrest snarled his lip curling up and his eyes narrowing angrily, "Shut your fuckin' mouth, Howard."

For the first time since they were teenagers, before their parents died and before he went and lost himself in war, Howard stood tall and grabbed the front of his younger brother's shirt, spinning him off balance and pulling him towards his body. "I have had just about enough of your fuckin' shit tonight, Forrest." His voice was a loud bark; there wasn't a trace of alcohol on his breath and he was livid. "I heard what you said to her back there, and you are damn lucky I don't break your goddamn nose."

"You best back off before I bury you."

"Do it. That woman has had a shitty life, hell _I_ know that and I ain't the one takin' her to bed. But from the time she set foot in that place she's worked her fingers to the bone, waitin' on you like a slave and never asked for nothin' for herself. Not one goddamn thing." Howard snarled and shook him hard, "For some fuckin' reason I can't figure out she's in love with your dumb ass, and when she needs you- you turn on her. And why, 'cause she was too scared to come to you? You act like a damn ragin' bull most of the time Forrest, how's she gonna feel safe? What would Daddy think, huh? That how he raised you?"

Forrest was quiet. For the first damn time in years Howard was acting like his older brother- and every last word out of his damn mouth was the truth. He shook his head and he opened his mouth to say something when suddenly an acrid smell hit his nose and he heard a sobbing moan. Both men turned around to see Patrick, covered in vomit and completely pale, his face contorted in agony.

"What in the hell?" He grunted looking down at the little boy. "Patrick what happened?"

"There's a man in there, and he's hurting Auntie," the boy choked out before breaking down into hysterical tears, "she's callin' for you, Forrest."

His heart sank and his entire body went stone cold. Panic seized him the same way it had when he saw his baby brother lying shot down in the middle of the road last year. He didn't think, he didn't speak- he just ran. He needed to get to her.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget's mind swam in and out of glazed panic and delirious pain. She tried to focus and the more energy she used to try to wrench her hands free from the tight leather belt that restrained her, the more tired and sluggish she became. The edge of the table bit down hard into the flesh and bony points of her hips and it was enough to snap her out of it. She felt him come up behind her and pull apart the torn dress, leaving her completely exposed.

"Well, I have to say," he slurred with a menacing growl staring at her scars, "looks like someone taught you a lesson before, honey. What happened didn't learn?" She bit down hard on her cheek and had to stifle the bile that rose in her throat when she felt his warm hand come up and squeeze her ass painfully hard. "But, that don't matter to me. In fact, I'm even willing to overlook the fact that you aren't even a lady enough to cover yourself properly. Or does Bondurant prefer to keep you dressed when he fucks you? That's you poor Irish girls, on your knees in the kitchen or on your back…he does let you take it in a bed right?"

Bridget tried to ignore him and his revolting words, but when she heard his zipper start to come down she started to panic again. She tried to cross her legs, but the warm slippery coating of her own blood that had leaked down to her thighs made it too hard to clench them together.

"Please, stop." She whimpered as she felt him come up behind her and roughly part her legs. "Please don't do this to me…please…please…"

Her hands balled into tight fists when she felt him guiding himself up between her legs to the apex of her thighs. She tried to let herself fall away, to go somewhere else so she wouldn't have to feel it. It was the same thing she'd done growing up when her father had decided to come at her or her sisters. She used to pray, hoping that one day she'd feel happiness and peace, if it wasn't in this life it would be in the next one.

But she'd finally been happy. For a precious few moments she'd been loved so completely and so passionately that is was worth the lifetime of heartache. Katie had Jack now and they would take care of little Patrick, everyone would be alright. It was those thoughts and memories that gave her comfort.

Bridget was dazed and to the point of losing all thought completely when she heard the door suddenly slam open and again, just as he had before, she heard _his_ voice in the darkness.

He'd come to save her.

:o:o:o:o:o

He couldn't control himself, and he couldn't stop.

Nothing registered at all in Forrest's mind as he barged into the station- his home – and saw what he was going to do to her. He reacted purely on instinct, grabbing the thinner set man by the back of his coat and throwing him to the ground. His old revolver sat heavy in the waist band of his pants and he pulled it out for a minute, cocking back the hammer and pointing it in the man's face.

It would have been over just like that, nice and quick. But a slight, gasping sob caught his attention and his raging steel grey eyes flinched over for the barest of moments to see her. His beautiful, strong, selfless woman tied up no better than an animal waiting for slaughter. A memory of that first morning they'd spent together played behind his eyes and he saw her stretched out before him, on his bed, like some sort of angel that had strayed too close to his calloused, clumsy hands and he'd been lucky enough to catch her for a heartbeat.

A bullet was suddenly far too easy for what had happened. For the audacity of this man to come into his house and to touch his family, he deserved a punishment fitting the crime.

The man might have moved for a gun, or swung his fist at him, but Forrest felt and saw nothing. He was methodical and slow as he reached into the pocket of his pants to slide on the iron knuckles that were never far. The first five punches were for Bridget, and the next ten were for him.

He was even keeled and strangely calm as the dull, clinking noise of skull and metal echoed through the building over and over again. This would end now, and this piece of shit would never, _ever_ touch anything of his ever again.

:o:o:o:o:o

It was Patrick crying that snapped him out of it.

Forrest stared down at the bloody, disfigured mess that was the man's face. He hadn't even taken the time to see if he recognized him, and he couldn't even tell if he was still breathing.

He shook his head, his entire body still seething with rage, and saw Howard running up the stairs with the little boy cradled in his arms and heard the noise of a car engine pulling into the driveway.

"Christ!" Howard yelled, "Forrest, help her!"

Forrest jumped up and stripped out his shirt so he could cover her bare body as he unwound the tight leather belt that kept her secured to the table top. He cradled her as gently as he could as her body slumped back against him like a sack of potatoes. It was only when he rested her against his lap and stared down at her lower stomach that he first saw the blood.

She was shot.

"Bridget," His voice was hoarse and cracking as he held her close. Her eyes were closed and her skin had taken on the very particular pallor of beautiful ivory that he remembered so vividly from seeing his mother laid out on her bed after the flu had taken everything out of her. "Come on, now. Open your damn eyes and look at me, woman."

He smoothed back a loose strand of curly hair from her cheek as he stroked her face tenderly. It was seemingly endless hours that lasted only seconds until her throat bobbed up and down painfully hard and her blue eyes fluttered part of the way open to take him in with a sad smile.

She reached up with trembling fingers to touch his smooth cheek and he could feel the warm, slick evidence of her blood as it smeared against his skin.

"I'm so sorry," Bridget whispered brokenly as tears began to fall from the sides of her eyes. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Forrest. I never wanted to hurt you."

Emotion felt like it was choking him, squeezing his throat and his chest with suffocating strength as she desperately apologized to him.

He wanted to tell her to stop talking, that he was the one who should be begging for her forgiveness, that she needed to be strong and hold on for him, because he couldn't go back to being all alone again. But he couldn't manage to get even a word out as she smiled gently one last time and touched his lips before closing her eyes again.

:o:o:o:o:o

Katie and Jack pulled in just as she saw Howard bounding across the front of the station with Patrick wrapped up in his arms. She was already screaming out in hysteria as she sprinted across the yard and up the stairs. She was shaking when she saw the bloody heap of a man she didn't recognize and then she saw Forrest…and the blood.

And her sister, pale as death wrapped up in his arms.

They were too late.

She was too late and her sister was dying.

Katie fell to her knees with a loud pitiful wail that echoed with the sound of her absolute and ultimate heartbreak. She was inconsolable as Jack tried to go to her. Huge shaking sobs wrenched from her small body and she couldn't control herself. She knew that she was screaming and begging in a nonsensical rambling that it couldn't be true that Bridget needed to stop this and come back to her.

It wasn't fair because she _promised_ her that she'd never leave her alone, they were supposed to die on the same day when Katie was old and grey, finally less pretty that Bridget was, and when they both had ten children and too many grandbabies to count.

Bridget told her that when they buried Mary together- and now she was leaving her. And it was this piece of shit in front of her that was taking her away.

The man on the ground suddenly moved his arm towards his waist, and without another thought Katie stood up and walked to where Forrest had left his gun on the floor. The slender blonde picked up the old revolver and cocked back the hammer; she squeezed the trigger and fired into his body over and over again until it was empty.

"Katie, NO!"

Jack scrambled to her and tried to pull the gun out of her hand, but she wouldn't move. She stayed frozen where she was with an ice cold, emotionless stare of pure hatred in her beautiful blue eyes. He knew that look. It had been the same thing he had felt last year when he chased Rakes down on the bridge after he killed Cricket.

"Baby?" He reached up to touch her cheek, "Come on back to me- it's all done."

She blinked twice and stared down at her hand, dropping the gun and running over to Forrest and her sister. Bridget let out a pained groan and Katie grabbed a dazed Forrest by the shoulder. His grey eyes were glazed with an almost lost look and it scared her to death that this always unshakably strong man had been broken by what was happening.

Without him or Bridget to lead them, someone needed to take control of things and step up to lead their family.

"We need to get her to the hospital," Her voice was calm and clinical, so far removed from the naive little girl she had been only weeks ago. "Forrest, we need to go, now."

He nodded and stood up with her sister wrapped up tight in his strong arms, refusing to let her go.

"Jack, go get the car, I'll drive her and Forrest. You go with Howard and Patrick, follow us in the truck."

They left the station and she thought nothing of dragging the dead man out onto the porch by his pant legs, hefting the body with a strength that surprised even her. She unceremoniously left him face down in the dirt before locking the door and running off for the car. It was just a little ways to the hospital in town, and Doctor Mills would be able to help Bridget.

She would be _just fine_.

She had to be.

* * *

**Seriously…I cried writing it…really.**

**Just want you all to know I love you enough to traumatize myself : )**


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: Alright *waives surrender flag* I promise no more of the bad news…I promise!**

**Starting to get to the end!**

**Please, please read and review! Come on! Love me!**

**Excuse the typos….I'll fix them later…**

* * *

The rain was coming down in an absolute deluge, pattering against the windows with a loud, constant tapping noise. It was the irritation of the repetition and a low rumble of thunder that finally made her open up her tired, dry eyes.

If she'd been a superstitious woman, she'd have recognized the significance of the rain again, like the way it was driving down on that hot and humid afternoon in the field, or the day that it first pushed her to walk down a winding country road in the middle of nowhere and right to Blackwater Station.

But Bridget Sullivan wasn't superstitious; she was far too level headed to believe in something that silly.

She blinked her blue eyes slowly and took in the stark and white washed walls that surrounded her. It was silent, and in a sudden moment of horror she remembered the last moments in the station, the pain and the blood…and the man. Her skin trembled with cold fear and she tried to sit up, only to feel a sharp pain at her waist that had her crying out.

A minute later the very thin, spectacled face of Doctor Mills ran into the room with a nurse in tow, his coat billowing behind him like a little cape. "Now, now, now, you can't move. You'll pull all your stitches, Miss Sullivan."

Her throat was parched drier than a desert and she coughed painfully and licked her cracked lips before she spoke, her voice sounded like it hadn't been used in years.

"What happened? Where is everyone?"

The doctor lifted up the starched cotton bed sheets to look at her legs, touching them one at a time with a little pinch to make sure that the blood was flowing the way that it should. She watched him closely as he covered her back up and sat down on a little chair at her bedside.

"You've been here for two days. Do you remember being hurt?"

Bridget furrowed her brow angrily at his patronizing tone. "Of course, I was shot. A man came to the station and attacked me…" Her skin crawled when she recalled that he'd tried to rape her as well, and she was so far gone that she didn't remember if he had done it or not. She swore that he'd been stopped right before it happened.

Forrest had saved her again.

She remembered the darkness and the pain, and then the immense comfort of his strong arms and the soft, wonderful smell of his skin. His full, perfect lips and his deep, beautiful grey eyes were the only thing she could see when he brought her back to life. It felt like a wonderful dream, and she was perfectly ready to fall away from the world knowing that she was safe. But she remembered being able to tell him that she was sorry for hurting him and making him so angry, for almost taking Jack away from him. And if Forrest wanted nothing more to do with her after all of this, she was very glad that at least she'd been able to have that.

"Miss Sullivan?" Doctor Mills quietly got her attention again.

"I'm sorry Doctor," She smiled weakly. "What were you going to say?"

The man frowned and stared at the papers in his hands, "I was able to get the bullet out of you, and you're gonna be just fine to go home in a few days. But it caused a bit of damage inside." He went quiet for a moment before adjusting his glasses, "I'm afraid you won't be able to have children, there's too much in the way of scarring. I'm very sorry, Miss Sullivan. I hate giving such sad news to such a sweet young woman."

Bridget felt her heart twist in her chest, tears filling her eyes that she let fall as she turned away from the doctor to stare at the wall. It was funny; she never took the time to think about having babies of her own. There was always a demand on her time and she wasn't ever close to being married or in the circumstance where it would have made sense. But somehow hearing him _tell_ her that she couldn't broke her heart. She hated that the first thing she thought was that she couldn't give one to Forrest, he'd never asked and she didn't know if he wanted one, or her- but there it was.

She took a deep breath and wiped away her tears, trying to remember to be thankful that she was alive. "Thank you for everything. Can I see my sister and my nephew? Are they here?"

He nodded and stood up, "Whole damn troupe of them have been in and out of here for the past two days. I swear them Bondurant boys haven't a damn lick of sense when it comes to listening to Doctor's orders."

A laugh puffed from her mouth and a genuine smile stretched across her face, "They don't listen to anyone Doctor, don't feel bad about that."

:o:o:o:o:o

In a minute her room had gone from cold and lonely to being filled with the loud laughter and warmth that came with family. Patrick and Katie walked in with both Howard and Jack; she tried not to show her disappointment that Forrest wasn't with them.

Katie was smiling through a river of tears as she ran over to her bed and threw her arms around her. She held on tightly, telling her how much she loved her and how scared she had been about losing her. Bridget kissed her wet face and smoothed back her blonde hair with a gentle hand, tucking a strand behind her ear. Listening as she told her that she was the one that drove her to the hospital because she knew what she had to do.

Little Patrick managed to climb up on her bed and snuggle up close to her, showing her his new plaster arm cast that went from his wrist all the way to his shoulder with a brave smile. "I jumped off the roof and broke my arm!"

"You did what!?" She scoffed with her eyes wide.

"I knew that I had to be a big boy and help, so I jumped off the roof and went to get Forrest and Howard," He turned his head quickly and met the oldest brother's tired green eyes with a nod, "Didn't I Howard?"

A wry grin lit up his scruffy face and he shook his head, taking off his hat and holding it against his chest, "You sure did, boy."

"It's good to see you smilin', Miss Bridget." Jack piped up as he put his hand on Katie's shoulder with a gentle pat. "We're all missin' your face around the station."

"You mean your damn stomach is missin' her food," Howard needled.

For the first time since they'd met them, Jack didn't have a sharp or nasty answer to his brother's jab. Instead he just shrugged his shoulders, "That too."

"Come on, Jack," Howard nodded to the door. "Let's leave them be for a little while."

Jack nodded and Bridget waved the men over to her bedside, letting each man lean over so she could kiss them gently on the cheek. "Thank you, both, for everything," she whispered. Jack's big hazel eyes were full of tears when he walked out of the room and she was genuinely shocked to see Howard scrubbing quickly at his reddening face.

When both men had left the room, Bridget shifted her weight gently over so her sister could crawl up on the bed and the three of them lay close together like they had so many times before.

Katie sniffed loudly and swallowed hard unable to settle down and get comfortable, "I killed that man." She finally confessed as her eyes closed. "I saw him alive and I saw the gun, and I shot him."

Bridget reached over to cradle her head in her hands, "I'm so sorry, my poor baby. You must have been so scared."

"That's just it," She said quietly. "I wasn't scared. I wanted him to die. He tried to take you away from us, and I couldn't let that happen. It was my turn to protect you for a change."

There was a strange feeling of sadness and regret that nagged at Bridget's insides for only a minute before she let her sister's words sink in. Damn it, Forrest was right. Somewhere along the way she'd gone and grown into a strong, fierce, little woman. And she couldn't suppress a feeling of pride that she had been the one to help make her that way, that hopefully she'd done her own mother proud.

"I love you, Katherine."

"I love you too."

:o:o:o:o:o

The three of them stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon until Jack came to collect them under the harsh words of Doctor Mills that Bridget needed to sleep calmly or she was never going to be rested enough to go to home. They said their reluctant goodbyes and Bridget reminded Katie to go easy on the seasonings when she was cooking dinner and to make sure to be up early enough to make breakfast.

She was left alone a few minutes later and she was starting to doze off as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger when a low cough startled her from the doorway. Her heart raced immediately when she saw the familiar, solid shape of Forrest. He took off his hat and held it to his chest; his grey eyes hid from hers and went to the ground. "I…uhh…wanted to see you…if you are seein' people…now, that is."

"Of course," Bridget answered the breathy tremble of pure emotion very evident in her voice. "You don't have to ask to see me."

He slowly crossed the small room and stood beside the small chair that the doctor had sat in. She noticed that he was shaking ever so slightly and she tried to sit up to reassure him, but as she went to speak he quickly pulled out a small bunch of wild lupines that had been practically crushed with how hard he'd been squeezing onto them.

"I thought you should have somethin' that smells nice in here," he mumbled, staring down at the small, delicate bunch of indigo flowers, "never liked the smell in this place." His cheeks and his ears were bright red and she could tell that he was nearly ready to have a panic attack.

"Thank you, Forrest," She said as she reached out to take the simple gift, letting her fingers trail gently across the warm roughness of his hand. "Please, sit."

He listened to her immediately and took a seat. But he didn't speak; instead he sat silently as he chewed absently on his lower lip and stared at the floor. She had to break the ice between them. Bridget couldn't stand the thought that they'd been so close to one another and now just days later seemed further apart than the first day she met him. He'd been brutish and frightening, but she'd been her share of obstinate and deceitful- and whether it was right or wrong from either side, all she knew was that she couldn't live her life without him by her side.

"I'm sorry, Forrest." She said as she took his hand gently. "It was wrong of me to hide something from you after all you'd done for me."

His hand gently held onto hers as he closed his eyes, "Please don't say you're sorry, Bridget…you didn't do anythin' wrong. I never let you come to me, never even gave you a minute of my time and now you're lyin' here because I'm a stubborn ass."

She bit her lip as she felt herself start to cry, it was funny to think that she never let herself show any emotion to a man before she met him, and now she couldn't manage to keep herself together. "The doctor says I am just fine, and you saved my life- again. I won't let you say that about yourself. What happened to me was_ his_ fault."

Forrest cleared his throat and looked into her eyes, the stormy grey pools somehow even more deep and magnetic than they always were, "You don't have to worry anymore 'bout that, he ain't ever commin' back."

"I know," was all she could manage to say back to him. She didn't want to know how the man was lying on the ground when Katie shot him; she had a feeling that his fists put them there.

He nodded solemnly and grumbled to himself for a moment before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Doctor told me what happened to you. That you…"

"I'm fine," Bridget cut him off. "Why did he tell you that? That's something you don't say about a woman to anyone_ but_ her."

Her voice was edged with the indignation and spark that heralded her approaching recovery and she didn't miss the slight smile on his face.

He coughed and stared guiltily down at their still clasped hands. "He, umm, thought it was…_would_ be somethin' that I should know… as your husband."

Bridget's eyes went wide and her heart hit her ribcage so hard she feared it would break. "What are you talking about, Forrest?"

His entire face was bright red and she could feel his hand trembling hard in hers. He stared at the floor and she could see him grinding his jaw hard as he took deep, slow breaths.

"Forrest?" She asked again, her voice small and terrified that he'd turn away and leave before he said anything else.

Instead he stood up and reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a small, carefully folded piece of paper. He sat back down and stared at his palm as he reverently opened the well worn packet.

Bridget was shaking as he unveiled a thin, metallic band with a tiny chip of something shiny mounted on top of it. It was a ring…oh dear, sweet Lord Almighty…was this really happening?

"I…umm…" He suddenly coughed loudly, mid-sentence as if he had something caught in his throat before trying again.

"Marry me."

It blurted out of his mouth in a low grunt and for a second she wasn't sure just what he had said, though her heart seemed to be miles and miles ahead of her head or her ears.

"Yes!" She practically yelled back at him.

Forrest was taken aback for a minute and looked up at her, his eyes uncharacteristically terrified. He held up the very small ring, "It's just, uh, tin and glass. It was my Mother's; I can get you a real one…if you want. I didn't have time."

She shook her head slowly and let him slip the tiny band on her finger. Her knuckles were a bit swollen from the surgery and lying down and it was a tight fit over the bone. But it would seem that he wouldn't be deterred. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, gently taking her finger between the plump, soft skin and into his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around it with a languid swipe.

Bridget couldn't stop the gasp of shock and pleasure as he slowly pulled it out of his mouth and slid the ring on easily, his eyes igniting into that hot fiery intensity that she couldn't get enough of.

"It's beautiful." She couldn't stop staring at her hand and the smile on her face was starting to hurt her cheeks.

Forrest cleared his throat loudly and turned back to the open door, "Alright, then. Come on in."

A questioning look lit up her face as Sheriff Potts came strolling in with careful steps. Bridget shifted uneasily, adjusting the bed linens so she was covered completely while trying to look as dignified as possible in a hospital gown with two day old, unwashed and bedraggled hair.

"What's going on?" She asked him.

"He's marryin' us." Forrest answered matter-of-fact. "I thought we just decided on that."

"But, right _now_?" Bridget fussed for a minute as she wiped under her eyes and tucked her curly hair behind her ears as best she could. "Forrest, I look just awful, and no one is here."

"Woman, it don't matter what you look like. You are the most beautiful damn thing I've ever seen." His voice was stern but loving as he reached out to tenderly lift up her chin with his finger, pulling her face so she was looking into his. "And I don't need an audience. All I care is that you walk out of this hospital as my wife."

"Oh." It was all she could say.

"Unless, that is…you_ want_ to wait…I uhh, know women like wedding dresses and the such…but…umm…" He grumbled quickly, as if wanting to make sure that she got her opinion heard and considered.

Bridget made a face at the thought of parading around in a white wedding dress, and she almost burst out laughing at the thought of having to walk past Mary Lou Burkett in the said white dress in public. No, thank you, she did not feel like dying of mortification just as she was to become a wife.

"No, you are right," She nodded. "Let's do it right now." Forrest gave a very rare full smile and took her hand in his as he scooted the chair over to the side of the bed.

"Well," Sheriff Potts cleared his throat and stared down at the scrap of paper in his hands, "you're gonna have to forgive me, I ain't done this before." He straightened up and took a deep breath before beginning, "Now, marriage is a partnership, one that needs to be taken seriously…"

"Yeah," Forrest interrupted with a typical annoyed grunt. "Why don't you go ahead and skip to the end."

Bridget had to cover her mouth to stifle a giggle as the lawman frowned. "Fine, normally folks want to hear that sort of thing. But I guess you don't."

"Nope."

"Alright, so do you both agree to this then? Both here of your own free will and all such nonsense?"

Forrest gently rubbed her hand with his thumb and nodded, and her blue eyes caught his grey ones in a long stare; wondering just how a broken axle on a country road could have led her to this man. She could almost feel Mary laughing and smiling at her, teasing her for finally acting like a fool in love.

And she was in love.

Completely, utterly, madly and foolishly in love with the stubborn, endlessly quirky and complicated man in front of her. And he loved her back. Forrest would never, ever let her down or abandon her when she needed him most. He would never hurt her. He would be there for her until the day either one of them left this world and she was quite willing to bet that he'd be waiting for her wherever they went after that.

"Yes," she finally answered out loud, "God, yes."

"So, by the power vested…" the Sheriff began again.

"Yeah, we're all done now." Forrest interrupted, his eyes moving to her lips, "You can be on your way."

The lawman shook his head and shrugged with a hapless wave of his hands, "I suppose. I'll have the license all ready by tomorrow." He turned to leave and stopped, "Oh, before I forget. I just wanted to let you know there was a car accident out by Blackwater two days ago. Out of towner by the name of Clifford Townsend from Chicago was killed; apparently he was involved in certain illegal activities all over the place. Just wanted to let you know that I closed the case on that and not to worry."

Forrest turned his head to the Sheriff in a polite incline, "Thanks for tellin' me."

Bridget looked up as he nodded back and left the room. Potts had cleaned up after what happened at the station to protect him- her husband.

"Now," He breathed out in a husky whisper, "the next damn person who interrupts me from kissin' my wife is gonna be walkin' with a limp."

"That's not very proper behavior," She taunted back as his hand crept up to tangle in her hair and he pulled her mouth to meet his in a slow, deep kiss.

Bridget moaned softly as his lips hungrily moved against hers. His tongue seeking and searching as if he was devouring her, a low pain suddenly tugged at her belly and she breathed in sharply through her nose; just as she started to feel herself begin to dampen with want for him. It was agonizingly frustrating. At the moment she wanted nothing more than to be with him again.

He pulled away with a feather light kiss to her lips, "You alright?"

"A little pain," She answered truthfully. "And I'm dog tired. Suppose being shot does that."

"It does," He answered. "Not to mention it hurts like a bastard."

Forrest stood up and leaned her back down on the bed, rearranging her pillow and her blankets until she was comfortable as she looked on in surprise. He situated her and then sat back down on the chair, turning so he could rest his legs up on the windowsill and crossed his arms on his chest.

"Go ahead and sleep," he said quietly. "I'll be right here."

"You don't have to stay in that chair," Bridget scolded. "Go home and get a good night's sleep."

He grumbled and shook his head, "Ain't leavin' my wife on her wedding night."

She laughed to herself at the foolishness of it all as she yawned daintily; it was going to take quite a long while to get used to hearing him say that. A smile stretched across her face as she closed her eyes again, "You really should have got a wife more able to do her duties I don't think I'm starting off well."

"Oh, you'll be home soon," Forrest answered with a yawn of his own. "Don't you worry about that. I'm a patient man."

Her eyebrow quirked, "Of course you are, Mr. Bondurant, the most patient man I have ever met."

"As much as you are, _Mrs_. Bondurant."

His warm hand came up to rest on hers as he stroked the back of her hand in slow circles. The calm, soothing motion and the comfort of his presence instantly relaxed her body and within minutes she was asleep.

* * *

**Almost to the end folks, just another Chapter or so…**

**And yes, I checked, in the Commonwealth of Virginia you can be married by the Sheriff of your local town if you so choose : ).**


	29. Chapter 29

**AN: So, this is it…**

**I honestly don't know if I want to laugh or cry. This was a labor of love and I am so honored and flattered with the response that it received. To all who have read, reviewed, favorite and followed- thank you from the bottom of my heart.**

**To Miss Winter…thank you so much for your encouragement, brainstorming and your ideas, I never would have even bothered to write this without it.**

**And to Mals…thank you for the advice the kind words and the laughs : )**

**So for the last time, here you all go…please let me know what you think…it means more than you know.**

* * *

The entire damn county seemed to be standing on his property waiting to watch his baby brother get married, and he really wanted to be annoyed and put out about the whole ridiculous affair. But try as he might, Forrest just couldn't bring himself to grumble in the least.

Truth-be-told, he found very little to complain about these days.

1933 had been a good year so far. Roosevelt had won the election in November of '32, and by January had already started the Prohibition reform that he'd promised. It was legal nowadays to drink low alcohol beer, and there were signs that the law would be completely overturned by the end of the year- they'd be able to buy a real nice brandy come Christmastime.

The time of the Bondurant boys being involved in bootlegging, gun fights and trouble with the ATU was behind them. Nowadays Forrest ran Blackwater only as a gas station and auto repair garage. He spent his days mulling over his accounts and slowly working to rebuild MacManus' cabin with his own two hands. It was satisfying, calming labor that he truly enjoyed, and sure, he kept one of the stills running every now and then when he felt like trying out a new recipe, but the liquor wasn't for sale.

His nights he spent in bed with his wife, who, even a year after he'd married her in the hospital; he still couldn't get enough of. As he stared out the window at the vases of wild flowers and tables covered with cotton cloth she'd neatly set up in their front yard for the wedding he knew he'd always feel that way about her.

Bridget was it for him; he'd loved her since the moment she showed up on his front porch, though it took it a good long while to sink into his thick skull, and blessedly she'd somehow been irrational enough to love him back.

He moved her, Patrick and Katie out of the station and into the old family farm house when she came home from the hospital. Forrest had wanted to give her a real home of her own, and though they hadn't been able to have children, he raised the little wild, white haired boy as if he was his. It was a simple quiet life, and it was perfect.

Jack had taken up running the farm, under Katie's watchful and enthusiastic eyes, raising cattle, and they both had a grand plan of growing tobacco the next year. There was something to be said about the love of a good woman, apparently it could manage to make even the most foolish boys into men. His little brother was living proof of that- though, admittedly he wasn't much better.

And Howard- well, he'd left for Martinsville in January just like he planned, almost as sober as a preacher - _almost_. He got a job as a machinist in one of the textile mills, and sure enough had actually managed to woo a local girl and convince her to be his wife. Forrest and Jack still had an over-under bet going on whether or not she was already in a delicate condition- odds were $50 in his favor that she was.

A loud noise pulled him out of his head and he turned around to see Patrick wrestling with his collar and tie. The boy looked about as happy as he was to be trussed up in a new three-piece suit, but Bridget had been emphatic about them looking their best. When he'd taken a good long look at her chest and backside in her new dress, the tan suit and dark blue tie suddenly wasn't that bad an idea at all to make her happy.

"Come here," Forrest gestured to the red faced boy as he crouched down to help him adjust his tie. "I don't want you pullin' on this all day, you hear me? She's been workin' hard all week and all we gotta do is stand there for a few hours."

Patrick frowned, "Yeah, alright, Forrest. I just hate bein' all fussy like this. It ain't comfortable."

"Well, it's only one day. It ain't gonna kill you. Now, let's go see if that preacher managed to show up yet." He answered in a calm tone.

The boy nodded and Forrest stood up, grabbing his old hat and throwing it on. He could only shake his head, he sounded like just his own father and it was still a strange feeling. But when he put his hands into the pocket of his jacket to fish out a match and felt the familiar weight of his iron knuckles he smiled at himself- not quite an old farmer _just_ yet.

:o:o:o:o:o

"I'm almost done, hold still."

Bridget crouched down with a sigh as she put the finishing stitches on Katie's delicate lace dress. It was a beautiful creation of hand sewn, cut out lace with a silk slip underneath that was tailored perfectly to her tiny figure. The sweetheart neckline sat wide on her shoulders, exposing the slender bones and the creamy white skin of her décolletage. The rest of the dress hugged her body and fell to the ground with a beautiful scallop and on her feet were a small pair of white heels. Katie had been insistent on forgoing a veil; instead she left her waist length blonde hair loose, pining up the sides and weaving wild flowers around the back of her hair.

She looked absolutely beautiful, like a little pixie straight out of a fairy tale.

"The preacher just got here, Bridget," Howard's wife Linnie spoke up from the doorway.

"Thank you," She replied over her shoulder at the smiling woman.

Howard had met Miss Linnie Manning down in Martinsville at the textile mill he worked at. He'd actually saved her life. As the story was told, she was walking down the main floor of one of the sewing rooms and had tripped, the back of her skirt had gotten tangled up in one of the looms and by dumb luck Howard was only a machine away. If it hadn't been for his fast thinking and the army pocket knife he always carried with him, she would have been drawn up into the gears and strangled by the machine.

Apparently it was love at first sight for both of them, because they were married in a courthouse three weeks later. The petite brunette with big brown eyes and a soft, sweet voice had instantly found fast friends in both Bridget and Katie. Though the poor thing had needed a little toughening up, her first dinner at the Bondurant Farm with the entire family almost had her eyes bugging out of her head at the first use of the oft quoted "fuck you, Howard" out of Jack's mouth. But it wasn't long before she was rolling her eyes, waving off insults and dropping her own when necessary. The two of them had recently planned to move back to Franklin County soon and get started on a family.

But unless her eyes were deceiving her, there was already a little bump of belly in Linnie's dress that hadn't been there before.

Bridget stood up and smoothed out her own dress, the fitted floral silk fabric was much more colorful and showy that she normally liked to wear- but Katie had seen it in a magazine and insisted that she buy it. She was now fond of making her feel guilty that she'd went and got married without letting her baby sister be there…so Bridget really had no choice but to acquiesce.

At least Katie had good taste in clothes. The neckline sat wide on her shoulder in a similar style to her sister's dress, and was a trimmed with a large border of embroidered lace, leaving only small flowing cap sleeves. The bodice rest of the dress was translucent and breezy, drawing the eye to a _very_ fitted light pink colored slip beneath, and the skirt fell in layers to her calves. She'd pinned her auburn curls up into a loose bun, letting just a few fall around her face to frame the red lips she wore especially for her husband.

"Where's the bride?!"

A sudden loud croaking voice carried up the stairs and both Bridget and Katie froze as Mary Lou Burkett made her way into the bedroom. The ninety-one year old woman was still kicking, and her little bird-like features lit up the minute she saw both of the girls. She clasped her wrinkled hands to her mouth and took a deep breath.

"Sweet Jesus, look at you." Her beady eyes watered. "I have never seen somethin' so beautiful."

Katie walked over and respectfully gave the old woman a kiss on her cheek, "Thank you for comin' today, Mary Lou."

"Of course I'd be here!" She answered, her hands going to her small handbag. "You need somethin' old don'tcha?"

Bridget laughed and took her own opportunity to gently kiss her, "Mary Lou, I gave her a small barrette of mine."

"You ain't old." She fished around for a moment before she pulled out a handkerchief and unfolded it to reveal a beautiful pair of silver Victorian style dangling earrings. "Now, I wore these on my weddin' day and I want you to have 'em. That is somethin' damn _old_."

Katie tried to protest a gift so valuable, but she wasn't having it. All it took was one stern look and the bride knelt down so the old woman could put them in her ears. Mary Lou smiled as she stood back up, "Can't wait to see Jackie's face when he sees you. Boy already looks like he's about to shit a brick, and one look at you and in that dress and it's gonna be all over."

"I hope so; I am lookin' forward to that." Katie winked. "I can't wait to be married."

Mary Lou nodded sagely, "You prepared for tonight?"

Her face and neck flushed bright red, and Bridget chuckled. "I…I think so."

"Just do what comes natural," She instructed with a nonchalant wave. "And remember the key to a happy marriage; don't win fights with your mouth, you got somethin' much more convincing between those thighs o' yours."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Bridget said with an airy sigh as she fixed her face in the mirror. "I've used my mouth very convincingly a time or two to win an argument with my husband."

The shock on the old woman's face was enough to make her want to throw open the window and shout down to all of Franklin County that she finally managed to leave Mary Lou Burkett's mouth hanging open like a damn gaping catfish to make up for a year of embarrassment. But she settled on giving her a saucy wink and a smile as she reapplied her red lipstick.

It didn't last long; Mary Lou cocked her head to the side for a moment and pointed a bony finger back at her, "I don't blame you there. If I was married to that man I reckon I'd be kneelin' for a lot more than Sunday prayers."

Bridget shook her head as she felt the rush of blush covering her skin. "Isn't it time?" She finally asked fanning her face as the other women stared at her with smiles.

"Oh, just one more thing!" Katie said as she turned to Linnie, "Can you go get Howard?"

:o:o:o:o:o

Katie waited patiently as the oldest Bondurant brother walked up the stairs and met them on the landing. He looked so different than the disheveled, troubled man they'd first met. His face was cleanly shaven, his hair combed and his suit was brand new, and his pale green eyes were clear as can be.

"You lookin' for help to make a getaway, honey?" He joked with a playful smirk. "'Cause I gotta be honest, I'd be conflicted about helpin' seein' as your marryin' my brother and all."

She rolled her eyes. "Not even close. I actually wanted to ask you a favor."

"All ears."

"Would you walk me down?" Katie asked quietly. "I don't have anyone to do it."

Bridget felt her heart clench as she watched the tall man's eyes widen with shock and then fill slightly with moisture. He seemed uneasy and unsure. He coughed lowly, "Why, me?"

She shrugged her shoulders daintily, "You watched out for me, and I think you owe me after you made me stick my arm up a cow's rear end to the shoulder."

Howard laughed at her answer and nodded, crooking out his elbow so she could slide her arm into his. "Alright, let's get this goin' then. I think Jack's gonna have a damn stroke out there if we don't get you to him."

:o:o:o:o:o

It was perfect.

Bridget stood hand in hand with her husband as she watched her baby sister look into Jack's eyes and promise him her life. She tried to keep the tears at bay and keep them from smudging her makeup, but it was a lost cause. Forrest turned her head up to meet his and wiped them away gently with his hands before kissing her softly on the lips.

Jack was worse off than she was. The poor thing was literally shaking like a leaf and she was so proud of the way Katie's little hands squeezed his, already proving to be a strong and supportive wife. The preacher's sermon about love, obedience and devotion seemed to go on forever, and Bridget had to suppress a laugh and then a shiver when she felt Forrest's soft lips against the shell of her ear whispering in a husky voice that he much preferred the length Sheriff Potts' ceremony.

But it was over before they knew it, and there was a roar of applause, hoots and whistles that went through the crowd when they were finally pronounced man and wife. Jack lifted her up by the waist and kissed her good and hard, and probably a fair bit longer than the buttoned down preacher was anticipating. When he finally let her go, the two of them ran over and hugged both Bridget and Forrest tightly before grabbing Howard despite his protests.

"Okay, enough of this," Howard grumbled as he patted his brothers on the back with a hearty clap. "Let's get this damn thing goin'."

:o:o:o:o:o

The music was loud, and the laughter was even louder.

It was safe to say that even thought the Bondurants hadn't sold any moonshine and brandy for a while; they still had plenty hanging around to have a good time. Katie and Jack were spinning around the dance floor, and despite any invitation from guests the young groom wasn't letting anyone dance with his beautiful new wife.

Forrest had found a comfortable spot to observe the festivities, leaning up against a large oak tree. He puffed on a cigar with a contented sigh as he looked at the parade of people who were mobbing the decadent three layer buttermilk cake that Bridget had slaved over for the better part of the week. It was a perfect balance of sweet richness and filled with a tart raspberry preserve. He'd normally be in a downright pissy mood that the entire thing was almost gone, but she'd made sure to make another little one, just for him. He planned on enjoying it later with a little apple brandy, and as the other mind in his trousers was suggesting, he wasn't sure if he wanted that before or after he'd enjoyed a taste of her.

Just as he began to shift his weight around to keep his body in control and his pants from tenting something awful, the loud, rumbling noise of a V-8 engine caught his attention. He stood right up and his hand went to his pocket, threading through his knuckles as his eyes searched out and found Howard, who was already walking towards him. The shiny door of the brand new Ford coupe opened up to reveal an average sized man in an expensive pin-striped blue suit. The stranger calmly walked to the other door to help out a tall, leggy blonde in the sort of fancy silk dress that you saw in magazines from Paris, France.

"Who in the fuck is that?" Howard mumbled, squinting to get a better look.

Forrest puffed on his cigar for a moment and suddenly the pencil thin mustache and the cold face lit with a bit of recognition. He'd never seen the man in person, but he'd looked at every newspaper clipping that his baby brother and Cricket used to paste all over the garage walls. Jack appeared at his shoulder just as it dawned on him.

"You wanna tell me what the hell Floyd Banner is doin' at my front door?"

Jack shrugged sheepishly, "I sorta invited him a while ago as a joke."

"Don't reckon he took it as a joke," Howard said shaking his head.

"That's obvious," Forrest sighed.

Banner walked up to the three of them with a guarded smile, "Well, well I figured before I cut and run out of the great Commonwealth of Virginia for the last time I ought to call on the indestructible Forrest Bondurant in person." He extended his hand, "Nice to finally meet you, son."

Forrest stared at him for a minute before taking it in a firm shake, "Yeah, likewise I suppose."

"Gonna still have a pretty high demand around these parts for moonshine even after the repeal, you still looking for business?"

Forrest's hands settled deep into his pockets as he looked back and forth at his brothers, "Ain't interested. We got family to concern ourselves with now, don't need all that anymore."

Banner smirked, "What about the money?"

"Ain't interested," he repeated.

He took the hint and reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a thickly packed envelope. It was stuffed with hundreds and he handed it to Jack with a nod, "That's your bonus commission off the last run we did in January."

"Naw," Jack shook his head. "We squared that away a long time ago. I ain't takin' that."

Banner laughed, "Honestly, son, I got damn near thirty dollars a jar for that last load. I owe it to you as a thank you."

Jack took the money and shook his hand as Banner took a long look at the wedding party going on below them, "Go on and have fun, and good luck with the new Missus. I'm heading off; look me up if you ever make it to Cabo san Lucas."

"Hey, thanks Banner." He said with a smile, "Good luck." The gangster waived him off and walked back to his car.

Forrest waited until he saw the car disappear before he held out his hand towards Jack. "I'll take fifty of that."

His little brother paused for a minute and then stared at a smirking Howard. "You're kiddin' me- already? You've only been married two damn months."

"It only takes one sweet night, baby brother," Howard needled wagging his eyebrows. "Considerin' the circumstances, you want me to explain how it all works so you ain't scared?"

"Aww, fuck you Howard," He grumbled reaching into the envelope and handing Forrest over the money. "If your old ass can do it I'll be just fine."

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget was absolutely exhausted.

The guests had stayed well into the night, and just before eleven Katie and Jack drove over to the station. They wanted to spend their first night alone. Jack was under some sort of paranoid delusion that Howard was going to do something to sabotage the night. Naturally his older brother did nothing to dispel the concern.

Bridget tucked a practically comatose Patrick into bed and kissed his forehead gently. The poor little boy was going to sleep for a week after all the excitement. He'd spent the whole day and night chasing after a cute raven haired girl with pig tails and bright green eyes, Lizzie Ann O'Dell- the preacher's daughter.

She was pretty sure she'd heard the man mumble something about the Bondurants and being trouble, but the daggers she'd shot him from her eyes dispelled any further comment on the matter.

She shuffled into her and Forrest's room and started to unpin her long hair, standing in front of the mirror as the curls began to tumble one by one down her back. He walked in a minute later with a yawn and immediately began to shed the new suit she'd made him wear, the neatly tailored clothes ending up in a pile at the end of their bed.

Forrest walked up behind her in nothing but his plain cotton undershorts, which he'd reluctantly begun wearing as the old long shirts he was so fond of were becoming thread bare and beyond repair. Bridget bit her lip at his reflection in the mirror, loving absolutely every inch of his broad, rough, muscled skin. He still made her feel like a lusty teenager after a year of being married, and she was pretty sure she'd always feel like this.

"You need help with that zipper?" His voice rumbled lowly as he came up behind her body, the heat of his skin searing through the simple silk fabric.

Bridget nodded and gasped lightly as his large hands came up to gather her hair and lay it over her shoulder as his rough fingers trailed down the column of her throat to the back of her dress, drawing down the zipper with a teasingly slow pull. She couldn't suppress the shiver that raced down her spine or the blooming heat that instantly ignited between her legs at the feel of his touch.

Suddenly a strange nagging feeling crept into the corner of her mind, weaving through the fog of arousal like a cold wave.

"He'd better be good to her," She mumbled vaguely.

"He'll be a good husband," Forrest mumbled as his lips touched the hinge of her jaw in a soft kiss. "He's a good man."

Bridget smiled as he slid the delicate silk layer off her shoulders and let it pool at her feet. Her cheeks flushed as his hands trailed down to her waist and squeezed her hips, pulling her back so she could feel him, hard, against her backside. "I wasn't talking about _that_," She wryly smirked.

A low rumble ran through his chest and pleasantly vibrated against her back as his mouth went to her eat. "He's a Bondurant, Ma'am. I'm sure she'll be seein' stars."

His hips rocked against her with his declaration and Bridget tried to roll her eyes, but couldn't suppress the little whimper that fell from her lips. "That's what I'm worried about." She breathed with fake indignation, loving it as he rubbed his length against her again. "You Bondurant boys seem to have the most sinful ideas when it comes to those matters."

Forrest chuckled louder as he spun her around and stared at her lips, his grey eyes darkening with hunger. "It's 'cause you damn Sullivan women drive us insane. There's only so much a man can take smellin' somethin' so sweet and tempting and not want to eat it all day, every day."

She melted at the promise in his words and instantly went silent as his full, delicious mouth took hers in a hungry kiss. His hands slid to her thighs and encouraged her to jump up and twine her long legs around his waist so he could carry her back to the oversized bed he'd built for them.

They shed the rest of their clothes and Forrest turned out the light, leaving the room lit only by a small sliver of the moon. Bridget lay back on the pillows as she welcomed him into her arms and her body with a loving smile. He held her close as they moved impossibly slow together, savoring each breath and every feeling. They'd both spent most of their lives living amidst the darkness and despair of the world, and now as a feeling of absolute completeness took hold of their bodies they knew that they'd never again have to face that emptiness alone.


	30. Epilogue

**_AN: Thought I was done, didn't you!_**

**_I just had to close with this little bit...just to be extra-special sure everything ended well : )._**

* * *

_November, 1940_

It was unseasonably cold for Thanksgiving; there was a sharp bite in the air and a crisp, clean smell that suspiciously felt like snow. Patrick jammed his hands further into his coat pockets and tried to shrug his shoulders up to help keep his neck warm as he briskly walked along the winding path home. His eyes scanned out across the empty fields of the family farm, looking at the dried out and husked remnants of the harvest; it had been a good year.

The sixteen-year-old stared down at his feet and smiled at the fact that the hem of his pants were already starting to be too short- again. He'd hit a huge growth spurt over the past two summers and he was now standing a bit over six feet tall, though unfortunately he hadn't filled out at the same rate. He looked like a "tow-headed string bean" as his Uncle Howard had been nice enough to point out.

But his Aunts had been just as quick to tell him that his father James had been as tall and thin as a teenager, and by the time he passed away at twenty three he was as built strong as an ox. Then again his Auntie Bridget would do anything to make him feel better.

That is unless he didn't make dinner on time.

Holiday dinners were a big deal in the Bondurant family. Attendance was mandatory, unless you wanted to deal with the wrath of the hell cat side of his Aunt's temper…and that usually brought out the bear in his Uncle Forrest. The man was the toughest son-of-a-bitch he'd ever seen, but he melted like butter on a hot skillet for her every time.

He recalled a particular Easter three years ago where his Aunt Katie had gone into Labor the night before and sure enough the entire family trouped down to the hospital to have dinner the next day crammed in the small hospital room, much to the irritation of Doctor Mills. But when the man was handed his own heaping plate of food and a huge wedge of pie, his mood changed.

It was funny; the first seven years of his life he could count his family on one hand. Now he was getting ready for dinner with thirteen people. Howard and Linnie had four girls, Jack and Katie had two boys with another child on the way, and then there was Bridget, Forrest and him.

Patrick picked up the pace and started to jog, it couldn't hurt to be there early.

:o:o:o:o:o

"There you are!" Katie huffed at him as he bounded into the door and took off his coat. "For the love of God, she's starting to look around with those crazy eyes like she wants to yell at someone, and I am starving."

Patrick smiled as his tiny Aunt rubbed her round belly; he leaned down for a quick kiss on the cheek. "Trust me, I ain't pushin' my luck."

"So how was Lizzie Ann?" Jack piped up with a knowing grin as he walked by, somehow carrying his boys on his back like a totem pole.

"She was fine." He mumbled, not really wanting to get into it.

Jack was just about to open his mouth for another remark when Bridget's voice saved him, loudly calling everyone to the table.

:o:o:o:o:o

No one could make a holiday spread like his Aunts. Bridget ran the kitchen like clockwork and Linnie was always right next to her managing to keep up. Thanks to Katie's huge belly she was more of a hamper than a help and this time she had been relegated to corralling errant children and husbands away from the food before it was time.

Once everyone was seated it was Howard who stood up and raised his glass, toasting to the year that had passed and the one to come; giving heartfelt thanks to "poorly maintained County roads" and "the army pocket knife", in reference to how the three brothers had managed to snag their respective wives.

A chorus of laughter went around the table at his remarks and everyone dug into the pile of food.

:o:o:o:o:o

Hours later the four men sat comfortably as they digested their huge meal. Forrest was really enjoying his favorite bottle of brandy that only made its appearance at the holidays; in fact it was the furthest gone Patrick had ever seen him. For famous moonshiners the three brothers didn't drink all that much these days.

Linnie and Katie had just wrangled the children to bed and disappeared themselves, leaving Jack and Howard free to light up a cigar and kick back for the night.

"So, I can't believe you're still sniffin' 'round the preacher's daughter." Jack laughed as he leaned forward with a smirk. "You're gonna get it."

Patrick rolled his eyes, looking very similar to Katie when he did it. "First off, I ain't _sniffin'_ around Lizzie. I plan on askin' her to go to the barn dance with me come Christmastime, and I'm gonna get her Daddy's permission before that. Second, I ain't the one who had a gun pointed me for sniffin' 'round a girl."

Jack's face went red as his brothers laughed at him.

"Yeah, well, you stand up to your damn Aunt, ain't a small thing to do."

"Dancin's always a good plan." Howard added with a laugh. "No better way to land a woman than twirl her around a bit."

Patrick nodded, "That was the plan. Old Mary Lou used to be fond of sayin' somethin' like that. What was it she said to you that night, Forrest? You know the one where you were starin' at Auntie instead of dancin' with her."

Even half-drunk Forrest's face got red at the mention of the old woman and the memory of gawking across a dance floor at his wife, and being too proud and foolish to go and grab her.

"Somethin' about women likin' that 'cause it shows the way you move." Patrick finished with a cheeky smile.

"Aww, gee," Jack pointed at his older brother with a laugh. "You _know_ he's got some moves."

"Come on give us a little dance, Forrest." Howard joined in. "Let's see 'em."

Forrest furrowed his brow and shook his head, "I ain't dancin' for you jackasses." His head turned to look at Patrick and he lifted an unsteady finger to point at his face, "And I used to like your smart ass."

He rocked unsteadily up onto his feet, much to the amusement of the crowd around him.

"Oh, wait!" Howard needled. "Here he goes."

Forrest waived them off and shuffled out to the door, "I'm gonna get some air."

"Yeah, walk it off!" Jack shouted out as he stumbled down the stairs and out into the driveway.

:o:o:o:o:o

Bridget was walking out of the kitchen when she felt a bitterly cold breeze on her face. She looked over to see that Patrick, Howard and Jack were all smoking and laughing and that her husband's chair was empty. He wasn't exactly prone to taking late night strolls, and he'd had a bit more brandy than usual, so she wasn't sure what had gotten into him.

She grabbed a sweater from the door and wrapped it around herself as she stepped out onto the porch, her eyes scanning the darkness until she saw him walking off towards the woods. With a laugh at his foolishness she quickly followed him, crossing the dirt of the driveway and into the fallen leaves that littered the cold ground.

He was absently staring up at the clear star filled sky as he walked, not paying any attention to his steps or where he was going. She reached out and grabbed his elbow just as he was about to walk over to the shore of the small, iced over fishing pond.

"Forrest?" She said as she pulled him back towards her. "What are you doing?"

He turned to her as slow, lazy smile tugged at his full lips, "Just walkin'. It's a nice night."

Bridget shook her head, "You were fixin' to walk into the pond."

Forrest frowned, "Was not."

"You sure were." She smiled as she slid her arms around his chest to hug him close. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't catch your death tonight honey; I don't want to be sleepin' alone for the rest of my life."

His glazed grey eyes looked down at her as he answered her with a noticeable slur in his husky voice, "I'll try'n keep that in mind."

"Listen to you, I _do_ think you are drunk, Mr. Bondurant." She teased playfully.

"Three sheets to the fuckin' wind, _Mrs_. Bondurant." He replied matter-of-factly as his hands came up to palm her backside. Well, one grabbed her anyway; she felt the bottle of brandy in the other one.

Bridget rolled her eyes and kissed him gently on the lips. He was going to be as pleasant as a bear in the morning. "Come on, let's get you inside." She reached back and grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards the house, trying to anticipate where his unsteady feet were going to take them.

Forrest stopped suddenly and pulled her back to his body. Bridget gave him a puzzled look as he stared down into her blue eyes.

"Dance with me."

She shook her head with a happy sigh and a tiny bit of irritation in her voice as the wind picked up and a gentle rain of snowflakes began to fall all around them. "Now? After all this time, you ask me to dance in the cold with no music."

"Yeah," He answered as he tossed the bottle of brandy to the ground and pulled her tight to his body. His mouth leaned down to hover over hers and he spoke in a whisper, "Right now in the goddamn snow I wanna dance with my wife with no music and no nosy ass crowd lookin' on."

Bridget laughed as he began to sway back and forth, weaving in a smooth manner that actually belied his drunken state. She held him tight and pulled his lips down to meet hers in a sweet, long kiss as they moved together in the moonlight.

* * *

**There...NOW I'm done.**


End file.
